Begin With the End in Mind
by vegetables
Summary: The end of the road is never particularly bright. - SundaeShipping, Harley/Max, Harley/Masato.
1. Part One

_Rated "M" for several reasons. This story contains pederasty, dubious consent, incestuous suggestion__ and a variety of other mature themes._

_**Begin With the End in Mind**_

**Part One**

_-Max-_

I once heard someone say time moves forward, _never_ backwards. When I think about that saying, I really pick it apart. You can put daylight savings time into consideration, or you can just consider the saying to be figurative, having to do with goals, desires and dreams. The saying also alludes to not staying in the past, so you won't hold grudges. I once thought grudges were useless and served no purpose, but that was before I had a _reason _to hold one. Now that I did, however, I simply could not get over it. And, worst of all, it had to do with my sister, May.

Thinking back to the day May left never failed to upset me. The pain struck me hard, harder than anything else I could imagine. Sure, I'd get upset when I thought about losing a battle or when I realized I said something stupid, but it just wasn't the same as when I thought about _her_. Just a quick flashback or memory would cause my chest to burn and my throat to swell. It was a bizarre twist of emotions, but in the end, all I knew was that she shouldn't have done it to me. Yet, she did, and even now, it hurt.

May and I had traveled with Ash and Brock for over a year. She may have been older, but I always knew more about Pokémon than she did. I wanted to flaunt that fact in her face, and I did, too. Naturally, of course, she became better, and it was harder and harder to judge her, especially when I knew she was trying her best.

Yet, regardless of what she accomplished, part of me resented it. Her success and her achievements made my sister want something else: independence. That's why she decided to leave me; she left me, Brock _and _Ash. Just like that. We were sitting there, having dinner, and she just blurted it out like it didn't matter. I guess I could've dealt with going separate ways from Ash and Brock, but when she told me _I_ _couldn't_ go with her to Johto, I didn't know what to say or what to do.

I hated to admit it, but I relied on her for a lot of things. She relied on me, too, and while I knew now that's partly why she wanted to get out on her own and depend solely on herself, I couldn't comprehend that at the time. All I knew back then was that she was leaving me. I couldn't continue traveling with Ash and Brock, I couldn't travel with her—all I could do was stay at home in Petalburg and wait to turn ten years-old.

When May and I returned home, she stuck around for two weeks, doing this and that, and resting up for her next journey. For a while I thought that perhaps she changed her mind about going to Johto, and Ash and Brock were going to show up and take us with them all over again. That never happened, though. The next thing I knew, she was gone. She didn't even say goodbye to me.

Well, okay, that's not _exactly_ what happened, but it might as well have been. It was me who refused to say goodbye. But, why did that even matter? May was the one who never asked Mom or Dad about taking me with her. She never _asked_. They would've let me, I'm sure of it. She just didn't want me around anymore. She thought I was a nuisance, a burden. No, it _wasn't _about her being independent. She didn't want to worry about me because she was being selfish and wanted to take care of herself.

My throat was starting to swell, like something was stuck in it. I closed my eyes, trying to think about something else to get rid of my anger, but I still felt upset. Once I started thinking about May, I couldn't stop. When I thought about her, I became sad, too, because truth be told, I hadn't spoken to her in a really long time. I was just too heartbroken with what she did to me all those years ago.

Sure, we talked every now and then, and we saw each other a few times over the course of our separation. When I had entered the Hoenn League, she even came to cheer for me. But, our relationship just wasn't the same, and it hurt me more than anything else in the world. I didn't know how to bring our relationship back to where it was before.

When I had lost in the Hoenn League—which was horrifyingly disappointing in and of itself—I wouldn't even accept May's comfort, because even after all my traveling alone, I still never forgave her for leaving me to go to Johto. It also could have been because I was bitter towards her success. Earlier that year, May had won the Johto Grand Festival. She finally won, and of course _I _wasn't there throughout her travels. I had been through nothing with her, and so, her championship meant nothing to me.

Mom and Dad were so proud of May, and I sometimes I felt like her success overshadowed my very existence. There were times I truly thought Mom and Dad were under the impression I was _stupid._ They worried about me far too much and treated my travels differently than they did when May started. In fact, when May went to get her first Pokémon, she traveled to Little Root Town on her own. With me, Dad insisted he come, too. So, he did. And, he practically hovered over me the entire time Prof. Birch explained to me the basics of starting out. Of course, I already knew everything he was saying, but I guess it was just a standard routine for beginners.

My first Pokémon had been Treecko. I always knew I was going to choose a Treecko, especially after how amazing Ash's turned out. His was way too cool. My Treecko was now a Sceptile, just like Ash's, but I didn't have it with me anymore. It was too obsessed with the greenhouse at home, and after a year and half of traveling with me in Hoenn, it deserved to just relax and worry about nothing.

Ironically, now, I was in Johto. It was kind of funny when I thought about it. After May left way back when, I had been so tempted to go out and follow her, even without my parents' permission. I learned everything about the Johto Region. I even mapped out how to get there. But, I never had to guts to run away from Mom and Dad like that. Still, Johto always intrigued me, maybe because May had so much success there. But, the scary part about actually going to Johto was that I truly had no idea what I was doing. Unlike Hoenn, which I was familiar with after traveling through it once, Johto was a blank slate. If I got lost, I could only rely on maps and my PokéNav. Regardless, I was doing quite fine, and I had even earned my Plain Badge two days ago.

I wanted to get going to Ecruteak by taking the train, but the weather wouldn't permit it. It had been raining so much that flood warnings were actually being released, but I doubted anything like _that _would happen. So, having nothing else to do, I just stayed in my room at the Pokémon Center, hoping that sooner or later everything would clear up, and I could get back on the road and prepare for my next badge. It was boring in Goldenrod City. I heard it was supposed to be full of activity and excitement, but I didn't think it was, personally. Maybe I was just wasn't old enough to enjoy it.

When I got right down to thinking about it, even though I was on messy terms with May, I thought I was doing pretty good on my own. Here I was, twelve years-old, and I had already participated in the Hoenn League. Maybe my adventures weren't quite as exciting as Ash's, but I was having fun. And, that's all that mattered, right?

My thoughts were cut off when I heard a sharp buzz coming from my backpack. It was my PokéNav, which I set to go off at 8:30. I looked at the device, turning off the alarm and setting it down on the blank desk. After dropping off my Pokémon earlier in the day, Nurse Joy told me I could come get them around 8:30. I didn't really feel like leaving my room, though. There were lots of trainers settling down here because of the rain, and all the rooms were booked. Every time I left the room, some trainer wanted to battle or just talk about nonsense. I wasn't in the mood for that. I just wanted to relax.

Deciding I would get my Pokémon in the morning, I dug out a guidebook at the bottom of my backpack. Brock had sent me this before I left for Johto. The book was full of tourist information about all the cities. Because I was alone, I couldn't get myself to go out and do the type of things I did with Ash, but I figured if I was going to be stuck in this city for a couple of more days, I needed to find _something _to do.

xxxxx

_-Harley-_

Goldenrod City was not what it was cracked up to be. That wasn't a big surprise, because most things that are cracked up to be glorious and great _actually aren't_. It's a shame, really, but even when I had originally visited this city I was so disappointed by its lack of anything _remotely _interesting that I would've preferred throwing myself off a rooftop.

I never thought anything would be worthy enough to drag me back to this godforsaken place. If anyone asked me why I was back, I wouldn't be surprised, because it was a good question, but I really couldn't give a decent answer, as I wasn't sure myself. I was bored, truthfully, and I wasn't in the mood for Contests. So, instead, I just wanted to have fun and travel around for the time being. Still, that wasn't a good explanation about why I came back _here. _

Wait, actually, there _was _a logical answer. I had to pass through to get to Olivine City, and I truly only intended to take the train to the other side of the city so I wouldn't have to deal with Goldenrod's atrocities, but the rain prevented me from doing so. And, I always hated rain, so it was no surprise that it'd fuck up my plans. But, really, why did it have to choose to come down and flood the city right when _I _was passing through? I believe the correct word for this was _irony_.

Sighing, I adjusted my position on the barstool. I had a cigarette in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other, and it was plainly obvious even to myself that I looked pathetic. I was miserable and drunk, so I really didn't give a damn what anyone thought of me.

I leaned forward to trap the cigarette between my lips and inhale its intense fumes. I shut my jaw, blowing the smoke back into the air through my nostrils and then extinguishing it on a nearby ashtray. I gulped the rest of the clear, brown liquor, the liquid burning my throat more than the cigarette.

I was sort of sorry my liquor was gone, because my throat was now dry. I had been drinking since 11 p.m. and—what time was it now?—I knew it was probably best for me to go back upstairs to my hotel room and hit the hay, but _gosh, _I was so bored. Why didn't this goddamn city have anything fun to do? And, why was I here again?

"Sir, do you need some help?"

I looked up to the female bartender, a young and trivial looking thing, who smiled with concern. I was going to ask her what she meant until I realized I was half off my seat. Was I trying to get up? Oh, I didn't even remember anymore. But, I supposed it was best to go back to my hotel room.

"No," I finally said, lifting my weight off the stool by pushing onto the bar. When I got onto my feet, I leaned against it for balance. I felt the lady grab onto my arm when I stumbled forward, but I pushed her away and started towards the hotel lobby.

My room was on level eight, at least that's what I remembered. I kept walking until I got to the elevator. Inside, there were two elderly women talking amongst themselves about how grand Goldenrod was, and if I hadn't been so drunk I would've made a snide remark to them. Well, I would've been glad to say something while I was drunk, but I was very tired at this point. I slumped against the wall and just closed my eyes. It was blinding in this elevator, all decorated with mirrors and lights and reflections.

After about six years and two hours, the elevator reached my floor. I walked out and stumbled to where I thought my room was. I took out my cardkey and slid it through the lock, and thankfully the bright green light signified I had the right room. I turned the knob and scraped my feet along the carpet, too tired to pick them up and politely walk through.

Before I knew it, my face was mashed up against my bed sheets. I groaned, knowing it was probably best to at least take off my shoes before I fell asleep. I attempted to kick them off, but I failed. So, I tried instead to reach down and slide them off, but, again, I failed. Finally, I just wiggled my legs around until they fell off, and I writhed back onto my stomach and yawned.

A number of random things were running through my head, which was always the case when I had been drinking. I thought of the most _nonsensical _things, which could be amusing and fun, but right now, since I was aggravated, I wasn't in the mood. I was tempted to pathetically lie here and jack off, but I sincerely doubted I had enough energy. I distantly thought about drinking to this extent more often, because every time I ended up remembering some weird event from long ago, which never failed to amuse me. Like some fucking hypnotic drug that therapists give you to unleash repressed memories or whatever.

Oddly enough, my eyes were burning despite the darkness in the room. I could still see around clearly, but the moon was hardly shining through the balcony window, blocked by the rainy clouds and other fucked up weather issues out there. I thought about getting up and shutting the curtains, in case the rain subsided in the morning, and the sun decided to shine its life away just to annoy me.

I didn't budge, though. I couldn't get my body to cooperate, so I finally just stuffed my face into the pillow again and fell asleep soon after.

xxxxx

_-Harley-_

A very dim, yellow glow burned through my eyelids, causing me to squeeze them shut as tight as I could. I tried my best to twist and turn in the bed to avoid the weak sun, but it seemed to be hitting all the shiny objects in my room and bouncing its reflection towards me. It was still raining and the sun was hardly out, but it sure felt like it was brightly glistening all over the place.

_Ah, _and of course, my head was throbbing, but I was used to it. In a way, I almost enjoyed it because it gave me an excuse to stay in bed all day. The downside to that plan was the fact I hated the way I felt _after _staying in bed all day. It made me feel like I needed a twenty-year shower.

I stuffed my face into the warm pillow, sneaking a peek at the alarm clock strapped down to the nightstand—really now, who was going to steal a fucking alarm clock?—but, anyway, it was 10 a.m., and it boggled me why I was awake so early when I went to bed so late. I couldn't say I was ashamed of my behavior last night. I had done that sort of thing far too often, but I never ceased to wonder exactly _what else _I did. I never fully remembered nights like those.

I sat up, the sheets covering most of my body. I had slept in my clothes and they felt wrinkled and clingy. I managed to remove my jacket and shirt, throwing them somewhere on the floor. Yes, that felt _much better._

On the other nightstand, the one without an alarm clock, rested a glass of water and the phone, neither of which I was looking for. I lifted my legs a bit, reaching into my pocket and finding what I wanted. My cigarettes. No wonder my thigh hurt.

I opened the box, which was bent, flattened and crinkled, and looked at the contents. There were three left, and thankfully there wasn't much damage to one of them. I took it out, throwing the box across the room. Then I reached into my other pocket, knowing that if I slept with my cigarettes in my pocket, I must have slept with my lighter in them, too. Sure enough, it was there: a scratched disposable _thing_ that replaced my precious zippo after its disappearance not too long ago. I flicked it several times before it spurted a flame. I lit my cigarette and placed the lighter on the nightstand.

Leaning against my pillow, I kept my eyes closed to avoid the sun. I wondered what day of the week it was today. I'd been such a mess I couldn't even remember what _month _it was. Boy, I really had turned into quite the pathetic thing, and worst of all, _I didn't care. _So, I sat there, smoking and pondering what to do with my day, if anything at all. My disdain for this goddamn city was so fucking immense. I _didn't _want to do anything, but I knew I ought to, just to avoid staying in bed all day and ending up feeling like I needed that twenty-year shower.

See, everything came around full circle.

I rose from the bed, the twisted sheets making it a bit complicated. I flattened the butt of my cigarette into the ashtray and walked into the bathroom, located all the way across the single-room suite. I decided it was best to take a quick shower—though, thankfully, not a twenty-year one—which, to a point, I dreaded. I enjoyed soaking in a tub with the perfectly warm and delightful water around me, not standing up and having the water hit me as my legs got tired. This damn place didn't have a tub, though. Just a stupid single shower, which put great mendacity on the title of "five-star hotel." What was I thinking when I decided to stay here?

I kept that thought going as I took my shower. Next time I didn't like a room, I was going to say something. Come to think of it, I wasn't sure why I didn't complain when I had discovered the absence of a tub.

Geez, I really was a mess. After being stuck in this city for two days as it rained and flooded the streets, I had just submitted to staying indoors and drinking and somehow managing to avoid much social interaction, including _pleasurable company._

When I finished showering and began getting ready for the day, the realization struck me that, since arriving, I hadn't let my Pokémon out. Despite not doing much training or entering Contests, I still kept my Cacturne and Wigglytuff with me. The lack of attention I gave them was probably a sign I shouldn't have bothered, but there was always the chance trouble could have arose.

I dressed in my usual green attire, a clean black tank-top replacing the one I threw on the ground earlier. I did my best to dry my hair, but it wasn't much use, so I grabbed the brown bag that held my Pokéballs and other useful items, and threw it over my shoulder. I was craving another cigarette, and seeing as how I didn't have any left other than the two crushed and useless ones, I decided my first errand would be picking up another box.

I left my room, hoping the maids would straighten up the mess I made by the time I returned. As I rode down the elevator, I took out my black umbrella from my bag, preparing to go out in the rain. By now, my headache had subsided for the most part, but I still felt groggy.

Exiting the elevator, and soon after, the hotel building, too, I opened my umbrella and held it over my head as I began walking towards the drugstore. It wasn't raining as hard as it was yesterday, so I hoped that meant tomorrow it would be clear enough to get going. The streets were practically bare, most people avoiding the weather or fearing a giant tidal wave was going to swoop the city under. Although there were flood warnings, I sincerely doubted the city itself was going to suffer any damage. That disappointed me.

I reached the drugstore at the end of the street, promptly shaking off the rain on my umbrella before entering. Inside, a pleasant-looking old lady smiled at me. I tried to smile back, but failed, so I just got straight to the point and asked her to get two packs of cigarettes for me. I doubted this place had any items for Pokémon, even food, so I figured I'd go to the Pokémon Center afterwards.

I paid and left, returning to the wet outdoors to head towards the Pokémon Center. I sort of regretted going out now. The weather was depressing me. The absence of people made it seem like the end of the world or something.

As I walked, I noticed a number of finer-looking hotels than the one I was staying at. I'm sure they all had nicer lounges, too. The one at my hotel was so small and pathetic. The bartender embarrassed herself continually by having to read off a cheat sheet when a customer ordered a mixed drink, _and _the final results of her drinks were pretty lousy, too.

I saw the Pokémon Center not too far ahead. A number of young trainers were starting to make the streets look more crowded, but there was still an unnaturally low amount of people out. I just gave a heavy sigh, feeling ever-so despondent and tired at this point.

"Hello there!" Nurse Joy chirped, even before the electric doors shut behind me.

Again, I closed my umbrella and shook off the rain. I nodded a greeting towards her before I approached the counter. It was a rather large Pokémon Center, and it was pretty crowded with trainers talking to each other.

"How may I help you?" she asked me.

"Well," I started, finally breaking into a smile. Every Nurse Joy was so sweet, I couldn't help brightening up when I met one. Normally someone that happy and polite would bother me, but they seemed sincere. "I would like you to give my Pokémon a check-up. I have neglected to give them any time out of their Pokéballs in the past two days, and I'm feeling pretty awful about that."

Nurse Joy nodded. "I suppose that's understandable. The weather has made a lot people a bit offbeat."

I scoffed knowingly, then handed over my two Pokéballs, which she placed in a tray.

"I'll call you over the intercom when I'm done," she explained. "What's your name?"

"Harley," I told her.

"All right." She picked up the tray and turned to go into the back room behind the counter.

I exhaled again then shook off the excess water still dampening my umbrella. I turned, adjusting my bag over my shoulder before I caught a familiar sight at the corner of my eye. Or rather, a familiar _person. _

My day instantly became more interesting.

He, _the boy,_ was standing next to a small Kirlia. His dark blue hair and glasses were the two features that caught my eye in the first place, and I swear he must not have changed a bit. He lazily sat down on the sofa behind him, leaning over slightly as he apparently began a conversation with the creature.

Max.

Yes, that was his name. But, where was his sister? Oh, I hadn't seen that little trollop in quite a few years. I almost forgot she existed, which, if you asked me, was a much better way to live since she was an awful human being.

For a moment, I wasn't sure what to do. He seemed to be alone, and then I remembered that way back when, Max didn't have a Pokémon. He hadn't been old enough. But, May and him seemed to have quite the bond, along with those other two, whose names I couldn't remember. They must have been around here somewhere.

I scanned the lobby, looking for a particular girl, most likely dressed in red. She was nowhere, though. I didn't even see that boy and his Pikachu. I wondered at that moment if Max had even saw me. If he did he obviously wanted nothing to do with me. That made me smile, and I was suddenly very eager to go over and talk to him.

I began walking over, my shoes clicking against the shiny tiles. Max must have heard the approaching footsteps, because he turned his head to look over his shoulder. It was quick, but I could see that he returned to facing the other way for a second, possibly not recognizing me at first, but also to possibly try and avoid my awareness. That was a little too late.

"Is that who I think it is?" I greeted in gleeful volume.

Max stood up, turning to face me with quite a puzzled look. He opened his mouth to say something, but shut it as he attempted to gather his thoughts. I smiled at him, standing right in front of the boy, who, I realized, hadn't really grown much since I last saw him. Before, he was barely taller than my hips. Now, his head seemed to be equal to the middle of my chest.

"Max—it's _Max_, yes—how are you?"

Again, the boy gaped. Finally, though, he seemed to shake off that clueless attitude and managed to say, "H_-_Harley…?"

I laughed at how he choked out my name. Just like his sister. "Yes, yes. That's my name. I'm flattered you remember me!"

The Kirlia behind him seemed interested in me. I walked past Max, bumping his shoulder on purpose as I bent down to get a good look at the Pokémon. It looked at me straight in the eyes, curious and cautious, before smiling brightly and squealing.

"Oh, how precious!" I announced, looking at Max with another smile. "You're a Pokémon trainer now. Are you here to earn a Plain Badge?"

Suddenly, Max seemed to brighten up a bit and that ridiculous blank expression was wiped away. "I already got it," he said arrogantly. He sounded _exactly _the same as when he was younger.

"Is that so?" I mused. "I hear Whitney is tough, so good for you."

Max blinked. He didn't know what to do with a compliment from me. Once more, he opened his mouth before shutting it again. Eventually though, the question I expected was asked: "But, why are _you _here?" Then, "Is there a Contest coming up?"

"I wouldn't know. Surely _you _should, though. I presume little May is around here somewhere, eh?" I put my hand above my eyes, searching around the lobby once more. I then stuffed my now-dry umbrella back in my bag and threw the sack back over my shoulder.

Again, something changed in Max's expression. This time he seemed to turn a bit pale and vacant. I was instantly intrigued. Now that I thought about it, Max hadn't been with May when she was in Johto. I never asked about him or her other friends, but I figured she just decided to go out on her own.

"She's not here," Max admitted, his tone seeming very bland.

"That's right. She went out on her own to Johto! Did she ever tell you how I beat her in _two _Contests there?" I laughed, reminiscing about her defeat. "I'm sure she didn't because it was quite humiliating for her, but it was really her fault for being so distracted by her little boyfriend, Drew. Did she ever tell you about the two of them—?"

"I need to go," Max said, returning his Kirlia and putting the Pokéball into his backpack. He began walking towards the back of the Center, and I realized that he was staying _here._

"Oh, don't go yet," I urged, grabbing his arm.

Max, taken aback, pulled his arm out of my grip and glared at me. My smile widened. In just a short amount of time I had seen several moods of this boy: confused, shocked, angry, pleased, happy, proud. It was funny. Yet, all those moods never resembled May one bit. His cheerful pride in beating Whitney hadn't been nearly as dumb and lame as May's pride had been for her Contest victories. In fact, Max's moods were _so _unlike May's that I almost forgot they were siblings.

"How many badges do you have?" I wondered, knowing from before that anything about _himself _would get him to stay.

Max rose an eyebrow, but answered, "Just four from here." Then, very quickly, he added, "I have all eight from the Hoenn Region."

"My, you're halfway there, then. You're quite the trainer. I guess you battled your father. Unless Norman is a crooked Gym Leader and just handed it out to you, which I'd _hate _to think!" I put my hand over my mouth to emphasize my dismay.

Max furrowed his brow. "That coming from you?"

I pursed my lips, preventing myself from smiling even more. I was tempted to go on and on and tell Max I was a changed man, but even when that worked with May, _he_ was never convinced. It was quite the adorable thing, his loyalty to May. While she was too dense to realize what I was doing, Max always looked out for her best interests. It wasn't the same with that brat Drew, though; he was just sticking his nose where it didn't belong.

Regardless, I ignored his comment and said, "I'm _highly _interested in knowing where May is now."

Max narrowed his eyes. "Why? So you can stalk and trick her all over again?"

"Stalk!" I repeated with mirth. "I never _stalked_ her. And, that's the truth, Max. Believe me, I would've avoided that wench at all costs had we not both been coordinators."

"So, why are you so interested in knowing where she is now?"

I cocked my head, wondering why he didn't defend his sister. Oh, yes, something was definitely not right between those two anymore. Could it be that the happy siblings had a disagreement? It didn't seem possible, since they were so close and mushy with each other, but I witnessed May's constant fights with Drew while they were involved, and I could backup the fact she could be quite unreasonable. Drew had distracted her far too much during her Johto adventures. But, I _had to_ know what happened between the darling Petalburg City siblings. I took Max's arm once again, pulling him towards my direction.

"It's so _boring _here," I complained. "How about we paint the town red and look for some fun?"

Max shook his head, seeming disgusted at the idea. However, interestingly enough, he didn't force me to let go of his arm. "No thanks, I'm busy."

"Busy? Doing what?" I wondered, looking around with curiosity. "It's still all yucky and raining out there. Not a lot trainers want to battle."

Although the boy had a defeated look on his face, he continued to argue, telling me straight up, "No thanks." He then shook my arm off.

"Fine then," I said lowly, watching him walk back towards the rooms. I kept my eye on him for a second, and I was half-ready to turn around and leave until I heard over the intercom:

"_Harley, your Pokémon are ready._"

This announcement caused Max to stop and turn, looking up towards the intercom. He then focused on me again. I returned his gaze with a smile. Over at the counter, Nurse Joy came through the backdoor, holding the tray with my two Pokémon.

I walked over, thanking her kindly. She chided me for keeping my Pokémon imprisoned in her Pokéballs for two days, and I told her it wouldn't happen again, which I wasn't sure was a lie or not.

I looked where Max had been standing, and there he was, _still _standing there. His face was a bright shade of red, and I couldn't figure out why. Maybe he felt ashamed for having judged me for just being at the Center for no good reason. He continued not to move, though. I would've enjoyed making a snide remark about his colorful blush, honestly, but it wouldn't have helped my predicament of not knowing what had strained May and him; it just would've made him angry.

As he just stood there, I happily replaced my Pokémon in my brown bag. Max stuttered something and walked over to me.

"What was that?" I wondered, wanting him to repeat.

"I asked which Pokémon you had with you."

I looked down at the boy, who still seemed so short and tiny. "My Cacturne and Wigglytuff."

"Oh," he voiced, completely uninterested.

I was insulted. Were my Pokémon not impressive? How could he express such a lack of enthusiasm when my Pokémon proved time and time again to be worthy of respect and admiration? This kid hadn't even heard about the _other _Pokémon I had captured in Johto, my most favorite being my sweet little Totodile.

So, bitterly, I grunted out, "Ha, and I suppose your team is better, kiddo?" I glared at him, putting my hands on my hips. Suddenly, I figured out how I could get the boy to hang around for a while. "Oh, Max, better yet, why don't you show me? How about a battle?"

"_What_?"

"You heard me. A _battle._"

"Um, I, um…" he stuttered, looking down at the backpack he held in his arms.

"What's wrong? I always thought you had such spirit in your system." I placed a hand on his shoulder, making him look up at me. "Surely you enjoy being a trainer, no?"

"Of course I do!" he declared. "I just never thought I'd battle you."

"Well, kiddo, you might have the advantage. You've seen me battle May so many times."

"And, lose to her."

I bit my lip. I did _not _like the way he said that. I had moved past my anger for that girl since I hadn't seen her in so long, but now that Max was around I certainly started to remember how annoying that brat was and how much she grated my nerves. First he insults my Pokémon and now he brings up _that_? What a prick.

Eventually, the boy shrugged. "Okay, sure. I don't see the harm."

Distracted by my thoughts, his agreement came as a surprise. But, I clapped my hands together and gave him a bright smile. "That's lovely! I just got my Pokémon healed, too! They should be nice and rested."

Max nodded. "There's a greenhouse in the back where we can battle," he said.

"Splendid. Lead the way!" I motioned my arms for him to get going. Before he began, though, he gave me an odd look, which I couldn't read.

I wasn't so much interested in the battle as I was for what would come afterward. Regardless of who won—which, I, admittedly, planned to be victorious to this novice of a child—I knew he'd be more willing to stick around with me after. _Max_ might not have been my normal choice of company, but this city was plaguing me with boredom, and the only interesting thing to do was try and get the gossip on May.

xxxxx

_-Max-_

I had been restless ever since the weather started getting bad. I was interested in battling with someone, especially since I hadn't had the chance due to being so worn-out and drained, but I really never thought I'd end up battling Harley. I never even thought I'd run into _him. _Of all people, really.

Harley hadn't changed much, to be honest. He still had the same trademark outfit, his hair was the same length, and even though _I _had grown, he still seemed to tower over me. He was also just as weird and suspicious, too. I had absolutely no intention of telling him where May was, because he had no business knowing, even if he was supposedly not going to find her.

I guess I couldn't say I was horrified to run into this guy. I mean, it _was_ kind of awkward to deal with him alone instead of with May, but I figured I was smart enough not to let Harley try and pull one of his cheap tricks on me.

As the two of us walked to the greenhouse behind the Center, I began to get nervous about the battle. He had claimed I would have the advantage, but I knew he didn't mean it. He would never admit to possibly losing. I think he was just mocking me. Both his Cacturne and Wigglytuff were incredibly tough, and I worried whether my Pokémon stood a chance. I only had four Pokémon, having done something similar to Ash when he went to Hoenn and left all his Pokémon with Prof. Oak.

Harley took a deep breath when he entered the greenhouse. He put his hands on his hips, smiling up towards the glass ceiling and spotting the rain that still poured from the sky. I couldn't help looking up, too, but I was anxious to get the battle going, so I walked over to the nearest battle box, ready to begin.

Harley smacked his lips together and muttered something under his breath before heading towards the other box. He dropped his brown bag onto the ground and made himself stand in an assured pose. I wondered why he didn't want to ask which Pokémon I had. I doubted he truly wanted it to be a surprise.

"Since I only have two Pokémon, let's make this interesting and have a one-on-one battle," he called from across the small battlefield. "Is that all right with you?"

I shrugged my shoulders, now knowing for sure he wasn't interested in my Pokémon. "Sure," I called back.

"Good. Now, let's get thisgoing!" he shouted, throwing his Pokéball into the middle of the stadium.

The bright glow of the creature shot out, distorted at first, but quickly clearing into the large form of a green, scarecrow-like figure. The Pokémon, just as creepy and stiff as I remembered, gave a howl of its name and positioned itself, ready to see its opponent.

I was suddenly clueless who to use. Even if Harley wasn't interested, I still wanted to show off my Pokémon. But, Kirlia was my strongest, and I was determined to win this. Making a vain decision to impress Harley with my captures wouldn't be half as fantastic as impressing with him winning. (Then again, this was _Harley, _and even if I did win, he wouldn't be impressed, just _angry._)

I gave a confident smirk, grabbing Kirlia's Pokéball and throwing it out just like Harley. Kirlia sparkled out of the ball, its small feet planting perfectly on the ground as if she were giving an Appeal in a Contest.

Harley stifled a laugh and shouted, "Oh, I've already seen _that one, _Max! I wanted to be surprised with the rest of your team."

"Well, you didn't impress me with anything new," I remarked, which caused Harley to inhale with anger. I could tell, even from far away.

"All right, enough talk," Harley growled. "Cacturne, darling, Poison Sting!"

Cacturne immediately jumped into the air, thrusting out its arm and shooting half-purple, half-gray pins towards Kirlia. Kirlia reacted without me having to say so, dodging as she shifted towards the right and giving a twirl while she was at it.

"Confusion, _quick_!" I ordered, and Kirlia did another twirl before forming a glow in its eyes and sending the blue waves straight in Cacturne's direction.

Cacturne couldn't avoid that one. The psychic waves tampered the green Pokémon's concentration, making it stumble backward and tremble with frustration. Harley urged it to shake it off, and Cacturne attempted to stand up straight, only to keep tilting back and forth.

"Double Team!" I commanded.

Harley followed up by yelling, "Needle Arm!"

Our Pokémon began their attacks at the same time, causing Cacturne's Needle Arm to miss Kirlia by an inch. While Kirlia made multiple spinning mirages of itself, Cacturne leapt into the middle of the figures, twirling around and around until he hit the psychic Pokémon right in the face.

"Kirlia, hang in there," I coaxed. "Try using your Teleport!"

"Catch it with your Needle Arm again!" Harley's tone revealed a large amount of frustration, but I was actually glad I was provoking such emotions from the man. If he stood there calm and confident it would mean I was doing a lousy job. I hoped, in a weird way, he was having flashbacks of battling my sister.

Kirlia kept dodging Cacturne's Needle Arm, and Cacturne kept attempting again and again. I watched as Kirlia disappeared and reappeared in various areas of the arena, waiting for him to get into the right position for a next attack. When it reappeared right behind Cacturne, I yelled:

"_Psychic!" _

And, with that, Kirlia quickly emitted its power, a swift and right-on-time hit that was headed for Cacturne's back. Cacturne turned its head, hearing the attack, but he was greeted by the large pink and blue beam, slamming against its face and sending him flying across the arena. The scarecrow Pokémon slid the last few feet of its travel, the attack deepening as it yelled out.

"Dammit!" Harley cried, seeming sincerely concerned.

The green creature just lied there, still and dusty. Its arms moved an inch or so off the ground, before it plopped its full weight down with a final howl. Harley growled with displeasure and let out a very potent swear.

"Ugh! I can't believe this!" he continued on, returning his Cacturne.

Kirlia twirled back over to me, squealing with pride. I smiled at her, kneeling down to pat her head and give endless praises.

"You were fantastic," I told her. "Thanks so much."

Kirlia gave a final squeal before letting its shoulders sag, revealing tiredness. I held the Pokéball over her head, and the red glow summoned the creature back into the ball. I stood up, placing the Pokéball back into my backpack.

Harley had already made his way over to my side of the arena. He had a very annoyed look on his face. He even seemed to have a gloss of sweat between his brow. I gave a small smile, which apparently made him more upset as he let out another curse towards the situation.

"Does this mean you're going to swear revenge on me?" I wondered, grinning.

Harley's expression changed. He laughed as well, but it seemed more towards himself. "Oh, maybe if I had my little book with me," he noted, putting his index finger on his chin. "Speaking of which, where did that thing go? But, _no, _I'm not."

I furrowed my brow, not knowing what on earth he was talking about. "Well, that's good to know, I suppose," I decided to say.

Harley rolled his eyes now. "Exacting my revenge on you wouldn't be much fun, Max. You're not worth it, just like your trollop of a sister."

"Can you stop calling her names, please?" I asked, frowning.

"So, you _do_ still care about her."

I blinked. Then gaped. For a moment, I felt like telling him to mind his own business, but I realized he had caught onto something involving my sister and me. I just gave him a look and said, "Of course I do."

"Didn't seem that way a few minutes ago out there," he told me, motioning towards the lobby of the Center.

I gave a shrug. "She's my sister, and I don't like you calling her names that don't even really apply to her anyway."

"What, _trollop_? I'm pretty sure it does. Did you ever see how she acted around Drew? It made me gag!" He rose his eyebrows, seeming to recall his disbelief of her attitude.

"Not really," I answered. And, it was the truth. I knew something had gone on between Drew and her, but I wasn't sure what. We didn't talk enough for me to feel comfortable asking, but I knew they had spent most of their time in Johto traveling together, which had ticked me off. I also knew May had a tough losing-streak at one point, which, from what Harley said, I guessed was from concentrating too much on her relationship with Drew. Maybe that was why they stopped traveling together before she went to the Johto Grand Festival… and won it.

"So…" Harley began, and for a moment, I was nervous about what he was going to ask. "Since I didn't get a chance to see the rest, how about you show me your Pokémon?"

I pushed in my lips, not expecting that. But, I agreed, taking out my three Pokéballs and throwing them simultaneously into the air. I caught them as they bounced back to me. The gentle red radiance cleared, revealing my Hoppip, Mareep and Murkrow. Each of them gave a cry of excitement, Murkrow, especially, who flapped his wings and began flying around the greenhouse.

I looked up to Harley, who had a small grin on his face. It quickly went away, and he shrugged his shoulders, saying, "Sort of a girlie bunch, don't you think?"

"Girlie!" I echoed. "They are not!"

Harley seemed to be amused by my reaction. He asked, "Who was your first Pokémon?"

"Oh," I began, watching my Hoppip go off to explore the lush flowers while my Mareep just curled up and napped, "I got a Treecko. It's a Sceptile now, but I left it with my father."

"Why is that? Trainers are supposed to be close to their first Pokémon."

"I am close with Sceptile," I argued. "I just figured after such a long journey through Hoenn, he deserved a rest."

"What about you?"

I shrugged. "A good trainer never rests," I told him. "Besides, when I think about, I kind of consider Kirlia my first Pokémon. Or, _Ralts, _really."

"Is she the first you _caught_?" Harley wondered.

"No, actually. I caught Ralts towards the end of my Hoenn journey. But, I met her way back when I was traveling with Ash." I was ready to tell my story to Harley, but he was 100 percent uninterested at this point. I frowned, but figured the tale would've sounded dumb anyway. "All these Pokémon,"—I motioned around the greenhouse—"are ones I captured here in Johto. A new journey should mean a new team."

Harley nodded. "When do you plan on battling Morty?"

"Whenever I can get out of this city," I informed him. "The train's been closed since the rain started, so I have no idea when they'll open it again."

"I'm in the same predicament," Harley sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I really hate this goddamn city."

I tilted my head, seeing, for the first time, calm and orderly frustration. "Well, it doesn't have as much as people say," I said.

Harley looked at me, seeming to agree. "Well, Max," he said, "I ought to be getting something in my stomach. I'm starved."

The mention of food made my own stomach growl. I rubbed the back of my head and revealed, "Boy, I didn't even have breakfast."

"That's not healthy for a growing boy," Harley said, slapping my back.

I hunched forward with the impact, remembering the amount of times he pulled that on me before. Even now, my glasses slid down the bridge of my nose, and I was forced to give him the same old glare as I readjusted them. Mumbling beneath my breath, I called back my Pokémon. Harley just stood there, laughing cruelly, and I turned to leave the garden when I was done returning Mareep.

"Thanks for the battle," I voiced bitterly as I walked away.

Harley's laughter ceased and he said, "My pleasure, kiddo, but you know, I am very serious about it not being healthy for a boy your age to skip a meal."

I wasn't sure what he meant by that. Was he inviting me somewhere? I looked over my shoulder and let out, "Huh?"

"You heard me. Now, why don't I thank you for this entertaining battle and treat you to a meal?"

"You must be joking," I laughed. "Why would you want to do that?"

"As a _thank you. _Despite losing to one of May's kin, I think this is a wake-up call to stop slacking off and train again." Harley threw his brown bag over his shoulder and approached me.

I frowned, remembering when he had bought me that ice cream sundae when we first met. "I remember you treating me to a meal before…" I started lowly.

"A sundae isn't a meal!" he exclaimed. "So, if you don't want a meal out of gratitude of this battle, how about one as a makeup for feeding you nothing but sugar last time?" Harley smiled, tilting his head and making sure I realized how sincere he was trying to appear.

I looked at Harley, who had a very serious expression. "I can't help being suspicious when _you're _being so nice to me. It's so_ odd._"

"Maybe you ought to lighten up. It makes things a lot easier."

"Sorry, but I'm just not up to it. Have a good rest of the day." I gave a loud sigh, shrugging my shoulders and continued to walk back to my room.

I could sense Harley still standing back there, but I didn't look back. I felt bad, because he may very well have been trying to just be nice, but it just didn't make sense that he would do anything out of the goodness of his heart. He wanted something. I wasn't sure what, but it was something. If it wasn't where May was traveling, I couldn't imagine what else it could be, or what _I _had to do with it.

When I finally got into my room, I placed my backpack on the desk, moving some of the books I had there. I looked at the clock on the wall, seeing it was almost one o'clock. It was going to be a long day, and I was already tired thanks to my battle with Harley.

Harley made himself look pretty pathetic, if you asked me. He never seemed to care about Contests and yet wasted so much time getting upset over losing and failing to ruin May. And, _now, _he seemed to be just taking a vacation and not even training anymore. Who did that? Ash had taken it easy many times, and so had I, but I never just stopped training all together. I hoped Harley was just exaggerating whatever break he was taking, because I would feel sorry for his Pokémon, who had a lot of potential.

My stomach growled, a loud and rude rumble in the empty room. Since I skipped breakfast I knew I needed to eat something. I could get something at the cafeteria even though the food wasn't that good, or I could just go out and buy myself something. Both options seemed pretty lousy.

I was running out of money and didn't want to call my parents, which seemed really stupid, but it was the truth. They'd always been more than willing to send me the things I needed, but what I hated about calling was that they'd never listen to what I wanted to tell them. And, if they did, they'd somehow turn it into something about May. I don't think they even realized they were doing it either. I never thought May would be the pride and joy of the family or that my dad would pay so much attention to her career, but both happened just like _that. _

I felt upset again, the usual reaction to thinking too much about May. Now that I knew Harley was roaming around the city, I couldn't help thinking about her even more. I really wish Harley never approached me in the first place. All my journeys with Ash, Brock and May were amazing; it was unfair I became upset when I thought back to everything now.

My stomach growled again. This time, I decided not to just ignore it. I figured that it was probably best to go out and find something to eat at the cafeteria now that Harley was gone. I couldn't say I regretted not taking up his offer, as I sincerely doubted he'd be kind enough to pay for my meal, too. I know that was sort of greedy to expect in the first place, but I wanted to save my money for the train to Ecruteak.

I could deal with not getting something better to eat at a restaurant. Eating bad food at the Pokémon Center was worth not having to walk all the way to the next city.

xxxxx

_-Harley- _

Since Max had beaten me I really should've been upset and plotting my revenge not only on _him, _but also on his sister. Ironically though, I couldn't say I cared that much. It was different when I lost a practice battle and when I lost in a Contest. In a Contest, I would be publicly humiliated and seen as the loser. In practice, I was just the one who needed more work. Besides, no one had been watching the battle between Max and me, so that helped clear the air.

I did, however, feel insulted by his complete dismissal of my generous offer to take him somewhere to eat. Kids had no manners these days. Well, maybe he was just a lot smarter than his sister, because I hadn't actually offered a meal to him as a thank you; I just wanted to get the full story on what happened between May and him. That goal was already starting to bore me, and I figured I should just find something to eat on my own accord. I mean, how interesting could a scrabble between those siblings really be in the first place?

My poor Cacturne, though! He certainly didn't deserve to be beaten. I could've handed him over to Nurse Joy again to be treated, but he would recover well on his own. Besides, _that _would have made my defeat humiliating, since I literally _just _got my two Pokémon checked-up.

As I walked through the Center's lobby, I noticed a majority of the trainers had departed, and with the exception of a few people, the place was nearly bare. Aiming for the exit, I pulled out my umbrella and the fresh pack of cigarettes I purchased earlier. Trying to manage opening both I ended up popping open the umbrella in a rather improper fashion, the top of it banging against my knee and making me drop the entire thing as it flung open. I muttered a curse, picking it up and holding it underneath my forearm as I continued to open the pack of cigarettes.

I heard a scuffle of shoes against the shiny tiles, and I turned around to see who it was, half-expecting to see Nurse Joy. But, it wasn't her. It was Max.

"Why do you have your umbrella open _inside_?" he asked me, looking at the open thing beneath my arm and my messy attempt to pull the plastic wrap off the box of cigarettes. He had his backpack lazily hung on his left arm, looking far more collective than myself.

I gave him a lively grin, raising my chin a bit. "I'm having a bit of trouble here, as you can tell." I tried to pull off the plastic once more, but I ended up dropping the umbrella again.

Some sort of reflex caused Max to step forward to pick it up, but he seemed unsure and timid about it for a second or two. I watched as he picked it up, having finished contemplating the gesture. By now I had pulled the plastic off, stuffing it in my pocket before I took out a stick and threw the box into my bag. I pressed it between my lips, finally having both hands free. I took the umbrella from Max, leaning it against my shoulder as I held it with my right hand.

"Seriously, though," Max began, "I thought that was bad luck."

I dismissed the idea with a wave of my hand. "You kids," I told him, grabbing my lighter from my pocket. I flicked it to life, lighting my cigarette. Sucking in the cancerous fumes I smiled, feeling calmer.

Max gave a disgruntled expression, obviously offended by the habit. I snorted, trapping the cigarette between my middle and index finger and blowing the white smoke directly into his face. The boy balled his hand into a fist, coughing into it and glaring up at me. I snorted again.

"What's little Max doing out of his room after such a triumphant victory and refusal of a good meal to celebrate?" I questioned. I couldn't help but picture how I looked—umbrella leaned against my shoulder as I held it in my left hand and had a cigarette between my fingers in my right—and I pondered whether Max truly thought such a cinematic stance was offensive.

"I was going to the cafeteria," he informed me in a rather harsh tone.

I rose an eyebrow. "I've heard some pretty odd things about the food they make here, kid."

"Stop calling me _kid. _And, I don't think you're supposed to be smoking in here."

"Oh?" I voiced, inhaling some more fumes when I placed it between my lips again. "Well, I'm off anyway." I turned, the electric doors opening just for me. Before I stepped outside, I faced Max again and said, "My little offer's still on the table. You can either eat the garbage here or be treated to some fine cuisine by yours truly."

There was a flicker of confusion that rushed through the young boy's face, but I could tell he was already leaning towards going with me. He just didn't want to admit it. I had to wonder whether he even knew I was still here and that's why he came out to the lobby.

"I still don't see why you would do something generous like that," he pointed out.

Annoyed, I bent over a little and blew some more smoke into his face. "_Because,_" I said, in an exaggerated tone, "I feel like it. Let's _bond_ over our mutual dislike of this hellhole."

Max turned away to try and avoid the smoke in his face. He then let out possibly the longest sigh in the history of the world, seeming to disappoint himself with his next statement of: "Okay, fine."

I smiled even though I had my cigarette tightly between my lips. "Ah, now that's more like it, kiddo." I walked out of the building, the boy following. We were still under the awning of the building and I said, "I'm not too keen on sharing my umbrella with other folks, so you're either gonna have to get wet or buy a newspaper to cover that wee head of yours."

Max began digging through his yellow backpack, grabbing something that crinkled and sounded like plastic. He pulled out a gray poncho-looking thing, which he threw over his upper-body. His head was now covered with the hood of the garment, and I ended up letting out a rather loud laugh.

"_What_?" he questioned, looking up at me.

The plastic gray hood ended right where his glasses began, which, by the way, already were slightly fogged by the perspiration around us. I laughed again, and Max repeated himself very firmly. I couldn't help but shake my head, wondering how someone would be able to walk around in a sheet of goddamn plastic and still keep his or her pride.

I threw my incomplete cigarette on the street and then transferred my umbrella to my right hand. I looked down to Max again, who was glaring at me. He looked absolutely pathetic and young in that poncho of his, yet I couldn't help but think of the whole thing as precious since he obviously had no clue how stupid he looked. I'm sure my laughter was already starting to fill him in on that, so I avoided the verbal explanation.

"Where do you want to go?" I asked him.

"I don't know!" Max shouted, on-edge now. "_You're _the one who invited me. I thought you'd have a place in mind."

I began to realize Max was far too moody. "W_eee_ll," I sung out, "I saw this sandwich place not too far away. It might be worth a try."

Max just nodded, wanting to get going. I began walking and he followed, right beside me. From the corner of my eye, I could see his figure covered by the gray poncho and I laughed all over again at his expense, not even caring at this point.

"Stop it!" he ordered in a very whiny tone.

I should have told him to just take off the poncho if he wanted me to stop, but the silence aggravated him more. Despite how dumb he looked, he seemed to be staying just as dry as myself.

"So, how's your father?" I asked him, making idle conversation to take my mind of his poncho.

"He's still a Gym Leader," he declared proudly, "and he's _still_ one of the toughest to beat."

I gave a very whimsical smile. Norman was _quite _the handsome man, oh yes he was. I swear that man had been blessed with every perfect gene the Lord could give you. He was an absolute extravagant combination of princely, suave _magnificence._ All the beautiful men were taken, by women worst of all, and he was no exception to that cruel fact.

"What?" Max said, interrupting my thoughts with a very perplexed pitch.

"Ah, just thinking about that father of yours," I enlightened him softly.

The boy furrowed his brow deeply, half-catching the tone that revealed my interest in his father. He looked ahead, keeping his eyes forward as he obviously tried to grasp something.

"Do tell me about your battle with him," I urged on.

Max was now hesitant. But, I doubted he'd be able to contain gushing about his father _and _the fact he beat him. "It was a three-on-three battle, just like all battles at the Petalburg Gym have been since the beginning—"

Geez, this kid really had a way of sucking the life out of what should've been a simple story.

"—and my dad used his usual combination of Slakoth, Vigoroth and Slaking. Some people tend to think that strategy makes him predictable and easy, but that's far from the truth. He's trained them all so well that they keep getting stronger and more and more unpredictable."

"Mmhm," I hummed, wondering when he was going to get the fucking point.

"I prepared for that battle since I got my first Pokémon. I didn't battle him right off the bat, _obviously, _so I came back home after I earned my Heat Badge, just like Ash did. Anyway, I used my Treecko, Mightyena and Breloom against him."

The two of us turned a street corner, and I could see the sandwich shop from before just a head of us.

"It seemed like the longest battle in the world. He knocked out my Breloom with Slakoth way too quickly, but Treecko managed to beat both Slakoth _and _Vigoroth. After those two rounds it started to get complicated, what with Dad using Slaking. In the end, it was Mightyena who pulled through and won the match."

I sincerely wondered if Max went on and on like this with everyone he met. He had the most ridiculous look on his face, recollecting like it was the best day of his life.

Max let out this seemingly mawkish little sigh and stated, "I still can't believe I won sometimes. My dad is so strong."

I smirked. "Oh, I bet he is," I told Max, taking my own perspective of that statement.

I looked over to Max, who again seemed a tinsy bit thrown off by my comment. I grinned to myself, wondering if his thoughts were anywhere near the truth. I couldn't help myself. When I originally found out May and Max were Norman's children, I was shocked. It did explain the resemblance, but I had never really thought about it until I found out the truth. Max _did _have all his father's features, after all.

"Is this the place?" the boy voiced, stopping in front of a small restaurant and cutting off my thoughts.

I stopped, too. "Hm, what?" It took a moment for his question to registry with me. "Oh, yes, it is."

I began closing my umbrella as the two of us entered. Max removed his stupid poncho thing, the plastic drenched with every ounce of rain that fell on it. I really felt like telling the kid to just throw it away, and I'd buy him fifteen umbrellas if it'd stop him from every wearing that thing again.

Inside the brightly lit restaurant, we were greeted by this thin little lass, who asked if it were just two of us. Max stuttered at the question, probably realizing for the first time that _it was _just the two of us. I was busy checking out the lame attempt of snazzy décor, the entire place defiled strictly in green, gray and creme. There were these shiny vases and strange figurines on each and every ledge separating the booths, making the space look like every other independent restaurant I had eaten at.

When Max and I were seated—thankfully at a table and not a booth, where we'd have to suffer the sight of those weird figurine things—I began looking through the menu, trying to find something that would fill me for the rest of the day. I glanced over at Max across from me at the wooden table, noticing he had his bottom lip tightly sucked into his mouth. He was so uncomfortable, _that _was thoroughly obvious.

He stopped staring at his menu and said to me, "I never thought my day would end up like this."

"You also never thought you'd battle me," I reminded the boy. "Seems to be a day of new experiences between Harley and Max."

Max cleared his throat, shifting his position and unintentionally letting me know he didn't like the sound of my comment for whatever reason. Not long after, the waitress came and took our drink and food orders. Max ordered basically the smallest thing on the menu, but I decided not to interject. I couldn't say I cared about him trying to be courteous and keeping the cheque small, because hey, it was him who would be hungry later and me who would be saving money.

"_So_, Max!" I exclaimed, not even sure where I was heading.

The boy rose an eyebrow dully. "What?"

"Tell me about your little stint at the Hoenn League."

Max's confused expressed furthered. "Do you really care?" he inquired.

I gave a matter-of-fact shrug. I was surprised he even bothered to suggest I didn't care. Before he went on and on about details I _hadn't _cared about and didn't seem to quite grasp my disinterest. I guessed it was his current discomfort that was preventing him from opening up. I suddenly remembered that I wanted to know what happened between his sister and him, but again, that objective was fading fast, since whatever May was doing these days just didn't strike any interest in me.

"Well," Max started, "I didn't really do that well."

"And, you're not embarrassed about that?" I cocked my head, sincerely curious.

"Of course I am," he confessed. "It's just, I don't even know_ why _I did so poorly."

The waitress returned, placing down our drinks. Lemonade for Max and a cup of tea for myself.

"Maybe someone's not as good as they think," I told him.

The boy's expression flattened, and he muttered, "Maybe it's because May was there."

I hoped I heard correctly. Instantly my interest in their spiff ignited all over again, and I jumped at my chance to learn more. "Now _why _would you ever say that about your beloved sister?"

A narrow of his eyes revealed regret for the statement. He stared down at his place mat, looking at the thing as if it were some famous document. His posture began to sag as he continued to just sit there, not even bothering to glance back up to see if I still cared.

Knowing Max wasn't going to continue on his own, I decided to tell my own tale. So, I began with: "I last saw May right after the Grand Festival here in Johto."

Success! Max looked up, engaged, or at least interested enough to stop glaring down at the place mat. I leaned back in my chair, giving the lad across from me proper eye-contact as I went on with my story.

"See, _I almost_ didn't enter the Grand Festival. I just didn't care enough to go, but I was determined to show May a thing or two about what a real Ribbon Cup Champion should be. May and Drew went, which I'm sure you know."

"And, May beat Drew in the final round and won, and so on," Max dully concluded for me, not even focusing on the fact May had once again beaten me in the Festival.

I was stunned. Was he really speaking that way about May's success? He _really_ wasn't on good terms with her, if that even began to describe it. I gave him a serious look, picking up my cup of tea and taking a small sip. This must have reminded Max he had his own drink since he took a sip of his lemonade through the straw.

"She sure did," I affirmed. "I was surprised myself, but once again disappointed Drew couldn't seem to beat her in the most important round." I huffed.

"You seem to think they distracted each other."

I laughed at this, slamming down my cup and nodding as I smiled broadly. "Oh, they _sure did. _I'm not sure when those two started—what? _dating_?—but May was nauseating with her affection, and I swear, I sometimes thought Drew wanted to puke, too."

Max's brow creased, and he just shook his head. "And, what, she just stopped caring about battles?"

"Well, no, I don't think so exactly. She still battled with what I'm guessing was her all, but there was something less competitive about it. I beat her twice—twice!—and she was royally pissed. Drew seemed to be, too." I gave a snort and continued on saying, "But, after I beat her a second time, the next Contest I went to, only Drew showed up. He didn't want to talk about May, and well, since then, they've been broken-up. Or, at least, since I last saw them however long ago at the Johto Festival."

"Who won that Contest? The one with just you and Drew, I mean," Max wondered, and he must have known I had lost otherwise he wouldn't have said it so nonchalant.

I rolled my eyes, giving him my answer and feeling a spurt of rage develop inside me. I hated thinking about Drew and May. They were two of the most wretched people on earth. I had to remember that _not thinking _about them was for the good of the people around me, _and_ for myself, too.

Finally, the waitress came back once again, and set our food in front of us. Max really _had_ ordered the smallest thing on the menu: a sandwich that only seemed to contain lettuce, tomatoes, cheese and whatever else. It was sad looking compared to my rather fancy eggplant sandwich.

"In the end," I finished up, "I guess it was good Drew and your sister called it quits. I highly doubt she would've won the Grand Festival had she been with him still. I'm sure their bitter feelings towards breaking up made their final battle all the more meaningful, too."

After taking a bite of his food, Max chewed it down and then said, "She worked really hard…"

It was a rather trite comment, something I presumed he only said just to say _something. _"And, when was the last time you spoke to her?" I asked, trying my best to sound casual.

I'm not sure if I succeeded, but he responded anyway with: "I don't know."

I was positive that was a little quibble. I'm sure he had the days marked and numbered since he last spoke to her. "Why's that?" I mumbled between bites of my food.

Max put down his small sandwich and just sat there, looking at his meal. "I… I don't know…" he droned.

Was _that _a lie, too? I couldn't tell. He seemed so sad and disappointed all of the sudden, but was that because he was facing the truth? Who knew with this kid, really. He was giving a terrifically pitiful look, his shoulders sagging all over again. I wanted to reach over and slap his back like I used to do, but he wasn't bothering me with his disdained look, just provoking curiosity.

With Max's head slightly down, his glasses slid a centimeter down the bridge of his nose, and that's when I realized I never really _looked _at this kid. Glasses and dark blue hair were all I ever could have said about his appearance, but now—_now _that I was actually analyzing this kid—I noticed the full extent of his resemblance to Norman. It shocked me. And, not in the same way it would shock a parent to realize their child's resemblance to themselves, but in a way that felt like all the times I had admired and fantasized about Norman I had been admiring and fantasizing about Max. Now, I suppose that should've grossed me out, but it didn't. If anything, it felt like I had my own version of Norman right in front of me, one that was reachable to communicate with and get to know.

But, did I really care about getting to know _Max_? Not at all. His father and him were two completely different people. My fan-crush on his father was, admittedly, just that, and I couldn't imagine throwing all my obsessions onto his son, who probably would've shot me had he been able to read my thoughts.

"You should feel lucky, Max," I told him as I finished the first half of my sandwich. "There are some siblings out there who never have been close. You and May were close at _one point, _so you should be grateful."

Max looked up with a very angered face. "What do you know about it? Do you even have any siblings?"

"Why, no, I don't." I tapped my fingers on the edge of table, trying to think of something else that would get this kid out of his pit of depression. Finally, I said, "I bet it's not even your fault."

"My fault?" he echoed. "You know, this really isn't even your business."

"I didn't say it was, _Max,_" I spat out, annoyed. "You're the one who came with me here. I was just trying to make idle conversation."

"Can it not involve May then?"

"You don't even want to _talk _about her? My, she really must have hurt you!" I chirped, putting a hand over my heart. "That's terrible."

"Stop," the boy demanded. "I know what you're trying to do."

I grinned. His back and forth attitude reminded me of when I had first met him and ended up buying him that ice cream sundae. I had spotted Max on the boat with May and her friends, and when I saw him in the café near the Contest Hall the next day, I knew it was a perfect opportunity to use him for my scheme against May.

I wasn't sure what Max was doing in the café, but when he walked by my table, I purposely dropped the spoon I was using for my tea. Max, being a sweet little gentleman, picked it up and returned it to me. It was, most likely, the lamest thing I had ever done to get someone's attention, but I knew Max was a kid, and he wouldn't have caught on to my cliché antics.

I remembered I thanked him overwhelmingly, trying my best to appear as a regular, nice guy. I asked him what he was doing there, and he told me his sister was entering the Contest nearby, and when I asked who she was, I pretended to be surprised as I explained I had met her the day before. The two us began talking as I had my tea. I put on a show of fear and uncertainty about my Pokémon, and Max comforted me by explaining details of May's early childhood and how she was not fond of Pokémon. It was pretty amusing to let Max tell all those stories as I recorded them.

Eventually, after I got what I wanted, I felt the sincere need to thank Max for giving me my weapon against May. He didn't know that, of course, but regardless, I ordered him an ice cream sundae—and so early in the morning!—and stuck around with him as he ate it. The poor child couldn't even finish it all, and he felt so terrible, but I just smiled and waved it off, telling him that I didn't mind.

Thinking back to all of that made me laugh, even more when I thought about his reaction to discovering I had used him. Goodness, that boy knew how to hold a grudge. I looked at him now, and he just gave me a puzzled raise of his eyebrow, questioning my laughter.

"Do you remember when I treated you to that ice cream sundae?" I asked him, taking a sip of my tea afterwards. I knew he remembered since he mentioned it earlier, but I wanted to know _how much _he remembered.

"Yes," he answered in a tense tone.

"We had quite the talk," I reminded him.

The boy's jaw tightened as he began swirling the straw in his lemonade around and around. I just smiled at him, glad to know he most likely was thinking back to that day. Even though I had been faking my personality, the two of us had gotten along quite well. If I recall, I wasn't even annoyed with him. Max surprised me with his brightness, and even more so, with his manners. He was such a polite and proper boy that I couldn't help inventing a little nickname. Oh, what was it again?

_Maximus!_

Yes, that was it. My grinned widened as I geared up for calling Max the name. I knew he wouldn't like it. In fact, I knew he would be downright embarrassed by it. Those facts made it all the more enjoyable to use.

I watched as Max finished his sandwich and drank his lemonade. As his head was slightly tilted and turned to the side, I swear I could see an astonishing resemblance between his father and him. I had personally met Norman once at one of his many fan events, but I never bothered approaching him again during some of the others I had attended. Admiring the man from afar fulfilled me enough, but I couldn't help but wonder what Norman really was like. Did Max's gentlemanly manners come from his father? And, was that occasional arrogant and overconfident attitude Max displayed also from Norman? I could care less about his mother. As a boy, Max was more likely to take after his father anyway.

I finished my sandwich, wiping my mouth with the paper napkin and moistening my lips before I said, "I wonder if that goddamn train is going to be open tomorrow."

A shock of interest ran through the boy. "The train?" Max repeated. "Where are you going?"

"Olivine City," I informed him.

"Oh," he voiced. "Why?"

"I never had the opportunity to fully check that city out. It seems like quite the interesting place. Jasmine's lighthouse might be worth a visit."

"Are you touring around Johto?" he wondered.

"_Pssh_, no," I dismissed with a wave of my hand. "Like I said, I'm just taking it easy. Traveling without any real plans is fun."

"I was about to go to Olivine City," Max told me. "Before I came here I earned my Storm Badge on Cianwood Island. But, because I heard so many good things about Goldenrod, I chose to go here first."

"Is that so? So, I assume since you have one badge from there and the one from here, your other two are from Violet City and Azalea Town?"

Max nodded in response. Then, the waitress dropped by for a final time, giving us the cheque and clearing the table of our plates. Max slurped the rest of his lemonade and peered over was I viewed the cheque.

"I can pay for my half," he insisted.

"Oh, Max, that wouldn't be very mannerly of me, would it?" I reached into my brown bag, digging through the various items as I searched for my money.

Max peered over some more, trying to see what was taking me so long. He seemed worried, as if he thought I was about to trick him and say I couldn't find my wallet and needed him to pay for the meal. But, I didn't even have a wallet. Wallets were for organized fucks, and _gosh, _were they tacky. I pulled out some money, a small amount at a time, before Max finally got the picture and questioned:

"Don't you have a wallet?"

I looked up as I placed a tin of mints, a crinkled flyer and a pack of gum on the table, clearing them out of the bag. "Do _you_?"

"Well, no, but I keep my money in a certain pocket of my backpack. It's called _organization._" Max's snotty little tone returned.

"You and your _organization_," I began, mocking his emphasis, "makes you look ridiculous."

"How can you even justify that statement when you're scrounging around for loose change at the bottom of that bag?" Max interrogated.

I just gave Max a face, placing a few more loose items on the table. While I was at it, I grabbed a cigarette from my pack, placing the unlit thing between my lips as I found a cluster of money.

"_There_," I said, counting out the right amount and sliding it to the end of the table.

Max rolled his eyes, sending off a message of a sudden dumfounded realization of who he was with. I knew that later on, once the two of us had gone separate ways, he would be utterly boggled by how he ended up spending so much time with me. I was sure the same could be said about me. But, I wasn't finding his company frustrating or irritating. I was actually quite amused.

The waitress came by and picked up the cheque and money. When she noticed I was trying to get my lighter to work, she said, "There's no smoking in here, sir."

"Oh?" I said. "Well, that's fine. We're done here anyway." I rose from my seat, nodding for Max to follow.

The boy stood up and grabbed his backpack and scrunched-up poncho. We exited the establishment, and I managed to get my lighter to discharge a small flame. I quickly lit my cigarette, pushing the lighter back into my pocket. I then looked down at Max, who was watching me intensely.

I pulled out my umbrella even though a very small awning above us blocked the rain. "What?" I asked.

Max's brow creased and he asked, very softly, "Why do you smoke?"

I blinked. "I don't believe anyone's ever asked me that," I revealed, and that's all I would say. It was a really stupid question anyway. I just gave a shrug afterwards, inhaling the smoke and readjusting my bag to go over my shoulder.

After a short bit of silence, though, Max spoke up and said, "Thanks."

"You're welcome, _Maximus._"

Sure enough, the boy's eyes widened at the name and he flushed—honestly, _flushed—_before looking down at his feet and shaking open his poncho. I chuckled, wondering how in the world busying himself with that shameful poncho was supposed to make him feel any less embarrassed about the nickname.

"I gotta go back that way," I explained, pointing towards the opposite direction we originally walked from the Pokémon Center. "So, I'll see you later."

Max looked up to me after pulling on his plastic poncho. "Oh…" he trailed off, not sure what to say. "Okay, then. Thanks… again."

I snorted and said, "Well, you managed to rectify _some _of my boredom today," I assured, walking past him. I paused for a moment and said, "Maximus, be sure to tell your sister all about this. I'm sure she can afford to let some of that brown hair turn gray."

From the corner of my eye, just as I walked completely past him, I saw him gape, attempting to say something back before he realized I was already on my way. I bit my lip, preventing a foolishly large grin to spread. Sure, spending my day with little Maximus wasn't what I had intended, imagined or even predicted. But, it kept me from wasting my day just sitting in a bar drinking myself into a hazy savageness. I regretted not telling him so.

I turned around briefly, just to see if he was still standing there in that goddamn poncho. But, he wasn't. He had begun walking back towards the Pokémon Center, where we had met-up only a few hours ago.

xxxxx

_-Max-_

It's so hard to believe I had actually done that, that I had actually spent most of my day with Harley and allowed him to take me out to eat and battle with me. He was _such _weirdo, and I expected halfway through that ordeal at the sandwich shop I would realize I was wasting my time. I also feared he was also going to try and humiliate me somehow. Harley never did anything out of the goodness of his heart, and even after we had separated, I still sensed that he was going to use this experience against May somehow.

I felt some form of lightness in my spirit, though. That either meant I didn't _care _if he was going to use our day to his advantage, or that, deep down, I didn't think he going to do anything. After all, he told _me _to share the whole ordeal with May. I wasn't going to do that, of course, and that was a result of simply not wanting to and just the basic fact I hadn't been in touch with her much.

With Harley gone, I was sort of feeling lonely. I almost wished May and I were on good terms so I could call her. I even felt like calling my parents, just to see what they had to say about her this time.

By the time I made it back to the Pokémon Center, it was around 4 p.m.. Thankfully, I hadn't lost my courage or desire to call my parents, so I walked over to the videophone and quickly dialed my home number. As it rang, I removed my poncho, holding it in one hand to let some of the water drip off. After a couple of rings, my mother appeared on the video, holding a bowl of something, which she was stirring. She looked frazzled.

"Max!" she exclaimed through her exhaustion. "Oh, honey, it's been such a long time since you've called."

I gave a very small smile. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry about that." I then asked, "What's the matter? You look so exhausted."

She continued to stir whatever was in the bowl and said, "Why, yes, I am. I'm just trying to get some food ready for tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Why, what's going on?" I then remembered myself. It was my father's birthday. I felt very stupid for forgetting. I haven't even thought about it at all. "Oh, wait, it's Dad's birthday," I corrected myself.

My mother nodded and smiled. "Honey, you really shouldn't overwork yourself. You're so busy with your travels you've forgotten your own father's birthday. I hope that doesn't mean you're going to forget your own."

I shook my head. "Well, sometimes overworking yourself pays off. I earned my Plain Badge the other day!" I informed her.

"You _did_? Oh, your father is going to be so proud."

"Thanks," I said. "Where is he right now?"

My mother put a finger up to her mouth, silencing my question. "He's in the greenhouse, so I'm using this opportunity to bake things for his surprise party tomorrow. You two are so alike—I don't even think _he _remembers it's his birthday tomorrow." She laughed, shaking her head at the foolishness of it all.

I just sighed. "Have you heard from May?" I finally asked. I knew if I didn't, my mother would bring her up and cut off whatever I was saying.

"May is competing for her third ribbon in a few days. I really wish you would call her and wish her luck, honey," she urged, giving a very small sigh afterwards. "It hurts her that you're so cold to her."

Me cold to _her_? That was a new one. I felt bad thinking so negatively, but as far as I knew, May and I were both not making any efforts; it wasn't just _me. _She was just as capable of apologizing as I was, but we just chose not to. Instead of debating the issue, I just said:

"I know."

My mother placed down the bowl on the table behind her then turned around to speak with me again. "Well, she's on Valencia Island right now. She's staying at the Pokémon Center, so if you want to call her there, you can."

"Okay," I said, even though I knew I wouldn't go through with that.

"Is there anything you need?" she wondered.

"No, I'm fine," I lied, dodging the issue of money.

"Okay, sweetie. I gotta go now, but call us more often, all right?"

"Okay," I repeated. "Bye."

"Take care, Max," she finished before the screen went blank when she hung up.

I hung up the receiver, too, and gave a hefty sigh. At least that was one of our better conversations, thanks to me mentioning May first. I had already forgotten the name of the island Mom said she was on. May had been traveling through the Orange Islands, and it surprised me that she wasn't getting too distracted there with all the beaches. Maybe that was good thing, but it still boggled me how she managed to get distracted by Drew in Johto and not resorts in the Orange Islands.

I stood in front of the videophone for a moment or two, half-wondering what May would do if I _did_ call her. I don't know why I would though, despite feeling lost and alone. I think bumping into Harley was provoking such a temptation. Being with him all day brought back so many memories of traveling with Ash, Brock and May. I would've called Ash and Brock since they were still traveling together, but I had no idea where they were in that Sinnoh place.

I walked away from the videophone and plopped myself on one of the many couches in the lobby. I was facing towards the large glass windows, which displayed the nearby buildings, all of which looked pretty boring. I wondered where Harley was and what he was doing. He seemed so miserable in this city, but still pretty lively attitude-wise. Gosh, he was a weirdo. I couldn't help keep thinking that.

'_I hope that doesn't mean you're going to forget your own.'_

My mother's statement ran through my head briefly. My birthday was coming up soon. My father and mine's birthdays were so close, unlike anyone else in the family. When I was younger, my mom claimed _that _was the reason my dad and I got along so well, which I now knew better to believe and recognized as just something fun my mom decided to say.

I was going to be thirteen, making me an official teenager. In a way, I already felt like one since I was traveling around on my own, but now I could finally have it by label. I hoped by then I would already have my badge from Morty. I really wanted to get going to Ecruteak and hoped the weather would be clear tomorrow. If it was, I could possibly even make it to Ecruteak early enough to battle Morty the same day.

I let my shoulders sag as I relaxed against the couch. My chin was close to my chest, and on me, I could smell cigarettes. I pulled some of the fabric closer to my nose and realized I smelt _a lot _like cigarettes, no doubt a result of having Harley blow the smoke all over me. The man himself had a peculiar smell. He _did _smell like cigarettes, but it was dimmed down to something else I couldn't label. It smelt like perfume, but I doubted he wore any, despite being sort of campy. It didn't have a strong scent to it, just tame and mellow, but enough to cover-up most of the tobacco. It was like some powder or something.

I suddenly felt uncomfortable thinking about how the man smelt, and so I let myself remember how Harley actually mentioned wanting to take the train, too. I wondered if the weather _was _nice tomorrow if he'd take the same train as myself. I wasn't sure why the possibility of his presence onboard interested me, though. He was a weirdo, plain and simple, and I shouldn't have wanted to mull over possibly spending more time with him.

Having enough of the outside view, I got up and walked towards the rooms in the back. It was _way too _early to go to bed, but I couldn't think of anything interesting to do with the weather being so depressing and all. I figured I could go back to my room and read, or at least wait until the Center got busy and I could ask some other trainers to battle.

Apart from bumping into Harley, this day was just as boring as all the other rainy days.

**End of Part One**


	2. Part Two

**Part Two**

_-Max-_

When I woke up, it had been nine o'clock. By the time I actually got out of bed, it had been ten. I was furious at the fact it was still raining. _Now _I was starting to fear all the flood warnings Goldenrod had been getting for the last few days. It wasn't normal to rain this much, but it also wasn't normal for me to spend such a long time in one city.

After having breakfast in the cafeteria and watching the weather on the TV in there, I was feeling a bit more hopeful for tomorrow. The weather lady said it would be clear skies tomorrow, and I believed it.

Last night, after having gone back to my room, I returned to the lobby around seven to see if any trainers were interested in battling. I ended up battling this girl from Olivine City, who was here to pick up supplies for her father's store. She agreed that the weather was a pain because she wasn't able to get back to Olivine with it raining so heavily. I had beaten her in a three-against-three battle, knocking out her Growlithe, Quagsire and Turtwig fairly quickly. Even though it felt good to win, she seemed so depressed by her loss that I felt bad. I could tell she was hardly a trainer in the first place.

Anyway, though, there really hadn't been much excitement after going separate ways from Harley yesterday. I knew he, too, must have been incredibly angry by the weather today. For some reason or another, I had a feeling he wasn't even awake, wherever he was. He just seemed like the kind of guy who slept until noon every day.

Currently, I was walking down the streets of Goldenrod, protected from the rain by my poncho. I was planning on picking up some Pokémon food at this natural food store I read about in my tourist guidebook. I really had no intention of checking the place out, but since I couldn't think of anything better to do with my day, I figured I needed to go somewhere to amuse myself.

On the way, I ended up walking past the sandwich shop Harley and I ate at the previous day. It wasn't opened currently, but I saw a lady inside setting up for the day. She looked at me as I walked by, and I wondered if she recognized me from yesterday. I continued walking, though, knowing the natural food store was a couple more blocks away. It was interesting to be awake so early and see the amount of people that _weren't _awake, too. The streets were so blank, and I knew that while their absence was partly due to the weather, the early time was also a factor.

The amount of shops in this city was ridiculous. In just a single block there was a women's clothing shop, a men's clothing shop, a Pokémon clothing shop (for whatever reason the world needed one of those), a grocery shop, a beauty salon, a shoe store and a deli. A whole town worth of stores jammed into one city's street. It could only mean that there were hundreds of repetitive stores in Goldenrod.

Halfway down the next block, I noticed a large hotel. It was taller than the rest of the buildings on the street and had a huge, red awning that just barely ended before the road began in the middle of the block. The hotel was called The Dream Suites, and I laughed at the unoriginality of the title. But, I also wondered if Harley was staying there. It wasn't that far away from the sandwich place we ate at, and he had gone back this direction when we separated.

As I walked by it, I peered inside, astonished by the luxurious _lobby_. There were two bellhops standing inside and one greeter standing directly next to the entrance. I had never stayed in a place like that. I wouldn't know what to do if I did. It almost seemed pointless to spend so much money on a place you'd only be staying for a couple of nights.

Just a few minutes later, I arrived at the food shop. I went inside, instantly picking up on the spicy and grass-like smell of the place. It was completely decorated in flowers and plants, although the entire middle section of the store had shelves of food and other items. Since no one was at the counter, I helped myself to looking at the selection of foods.

I spent a few minutes browsing until I settled on a small bag of food for all types of Pokémon. There were plenty of mixes for a select type, but I didn't have the money for all of them, and I didn't feel right only buying one type of food for _one _of my Pokémon. I wondered if Ash knew how lucky he was to have Brock traveling around with him still. Brock could easily whip up something for one of Ash's Pokémon, and Ash wouldn't have to spend a single dime or lift a single finger.

When I got to the counter and rang the small bell to get someone to come out, my mind wandered back to that fancy hotel. I wondered what Harley would do if I visited him. Well, if, of course, that was the hotel he was staying at. Would he be angry seeing me again? Would he even possibly be interested in spending more time with me? I figured the first would be the outcome. He had the entire night to realize he'd lost to me in our match, and I'm sure somewhere along the way he started getting fired up about it.

"Hello there," a man said, coming out from the room behind the counter. "I didn't even realize we had a customer."

"That's okay," I assured. "I found what I was looking for." I placed the small bag on the counter.

"Is this your first time visiting us?" he questioned as he calculated the total. This place was so self-run that they didn't even have a cash register.

"Yeah," I admitted, watching as he scribbled down the total on a chart. He read me my total, and I gave him the money, quick and easy. I thought about how Harley had such a difficult time finding his money yesterday, still astounded by him not having a wallet. Did he really just stuff his money in his bag like that?

"I hope your Pokémon enjoy the food. Thanks for visiting," the man said, handing back the bag to me.

I thanked him, then began walking out of the store with the bag in tow. Just before I exited, I turned around and asked, "Are there any hotels around here?"

The man sat on a stool behind the counter and looked towards me. "Hmm?" he mused.

"Hotels," I repeated.

"Well, let's see," he pondered, resting the weight of his head on his elbow. "There's a ton in Goldenrod, but the only one nearby in just a block away."

"Do you know the name of it?" I asked, removing my backpack from my shoulders and placing the bag of food in it.

"The Dream Suites, I believe," he told me.

I nodded. "Oh, okay. Thanks." And, with that said, I turned and left the store.

So, that hotel _was _possibly where Harley was staying. I stood outside the store for a moment, contemplating whether or not I was actually going to go through with checking to see if he was there. What would I even do? Go ask the front desk? Would they even _tell me _if he was staying there or would they assume I was some stalker?

Gosh, why did I even want to find him anyway? Was I really that lonely these days?

Originally, I was sort of planning on visiting some of the other touristy places listed in the guidebook. I only wanted to because I was bored and knew the bad weather would make everything less crowded. But, to tell the truth, I wasn't really interested in anything listed in the book besides the natural food store. I guess if I couldn't find Harley, I would just settle for following through with my original plans.

So, I began heading back towards the hotel. It didn't take long since it was only a block away. As I entered, the two bellhops gave me a weird look, probably wondering what a kid my age was doing in a place like this. I should've felt insulted, but knowing that I truly couldn't afford this kind of hotel, I really had no grounds to feel offended. I took off my poncho in an attempt to look half-presentable, but they kept looking at me funny.

The lobby was so big and wide, it felt like the front desk was miles away. I'm pretty sure it was bigger than the _entire_ Pokémon Center. There were numerous chairs and a coffee table near this gigantic fireplace that seemed to have a fake electric fire. Over on the right side of the lobby was a large hall that seemed to lead to the elevators. On the left side, there was a lounge, dimly lit and—

—and, there he was! Even though I was only half-examining the place, I instantly spotted the man sitting at a round booth alone. I was completely shocked at my luck, but very pleased at the same time. This was indeed the hotel he was at, and thankfully, I didn't even have to work up the courage to approach the front desk. I hardly ever had this easy of a time looking for someone. But, then again, when had I ever really looked for someone?

I was, in a weird sense, excited to see the man, but I still I walked very cautiously over to him, entering the lounge slowly. His eyes were glued to whatever drink he had in his hand, and I noticed he also had a cigarette in his mouth. It stayed trapped between his lips as he tipped it to allow some smoke out of his mouth. He sucked in the rest then held the stick between his fingers as he took a sip from the small glass. I realized that he must have been drinking alcohol, and I was slightly taken aback by the realization, and _not because_ it was so early, but because it made me consider his age.

Due to my slow movements, I was hardly even near his booth. I bit my bottom lip, my heart suddenly beating very quickly. There was no reason I should have been so nervous. Sure, he was a weirdo, but I was the one who went out of my way to look for him, so I shouldn't have been so hesitant to reveal my presence.

"Um, hi," I finally said, nearing his booth and starting to rustle around the poncho in my hands.

The man's eyes slowly rose, not exactly sure if the voice was for him. When he realized it was me, however, his rather blank and depressed look vanished in less than a second, and he shouted:

"_Oh, Maximus_!"

I flushed, not liking how loud he said that. I just stood there, not sure what to do now.

"Hi," I repeated.

He placed the glass filled with light brown liquid on the table. He turned his head and raised an eyebrow. "I don't believe in coincidences," he told me. "You came to find me." It was not a question.

"I… uh, yeah, I did," I admitted. "Can I sit down?"

Harley laughed. "Yes!" he answered.

I did so, sliding my way into the round booth, making myself sit across from the man. "It's still raining out," I said.

Harley gave a rather dull look. "It sure is," he groaned, running a hand through his hair in annoyance. He then inhaled some of the smoke, blowing it out of his nose.

The smoke traveled in my direction, and it smelt rather disgusting. But, I didn't cough, like I had yesterday. I felt a stifle in my throat, but I prevented a cough from actually releasing. I must have looked like a retard doing it because Harley laughed at me.

"Isn't it…" I trailed off for a second, noticing how Harley took another gulp of his drink. "Isn't it a little early to be, um, drinking?" I motioned my eyes toward his now finished beverage.

Harley didn't seem to like my question. He rolled his eyes at me. "I suppose it's too early for a cigarette, too?" he mocked, blowing a heavy amount into my face just to annoy me.

I fanned most of it away and glared at him. "I went out of my way to find you," I spewed, "the least you could do is be nice to me."

"Oh, Maximus, you can be such a _child_," he criticized. When a waiter walked by, he rose his empty glass at the man, signaling for a refill. The waiter nodded and continued on his way.

"Can you at least stop calling me that?" I asked.

"Aww, why? It's so fun to say." The man grinned. "_Maax-ah-muus,_" he pronounced slowly.

"Stop!" I ordered, biting my lip. "Listen, I didn't come here to fight with you."

Harley raised both his eyebrows and said, "No? Then what?"

"I-I don't know…" I began stuttering out, and I truly did not know why I was so nervous. "I just thought… maybe…"

"Maybe the two of us could paint this fucking town red?" Before he waited on my answer, he continued, "You know, kiddo, I'm not really in the mood."

I frowned, feeling very disappointed by being blown off. "W-Why not?"

Harley smacked his lips together, discarding the seriousness of my question. "The weather has depressed me. I think I'm going to stay inside and drink." Just as he said that, the waiter returned with a new glass of the golden liquor. He placed it in front of Harley, and the man took a small sip.

I continued to frown. "So, what exactly is that?" I asked, looking at the liquor.

"Brandy. Damn good Brandy at that." He leaned the glass towards me. "Want a sip?"

I gaped. "N-No!"

Harley took another sip, or a swig, really, and then asked, "Go anywhere this morning?"

"No," I lied, knowing he really didn't care if I had. Plus, he would've just made fun of me for going to a natural food store for Pokémon. "Today's my dad's birthday," I then blurted out.

"Ahh, Norman's birthday, hmm?"

The man was asking way too many questions, and I assumed he was starting to get drunk. He had a very slow reaction to my statements, and his words were dragging out. I was sort of scared, as I had never been around a drunk before. My parents never drank, but now I wished they had so I would know whether or not I should leave Harley alone.

"Yeah," I shrugged. "I actually forgot, but my mom reminded me yesterday when I called her." Now I was just talking to talk, knowing Harley probably wasn't listening anyway.

Harley pursed his lips but still gave a grin of acknowledgment. "Did you get your daddy anything?" he slurred.

"Uh, no, actually, since I forgot all about it. I probably shouldn't even bother now. Giving someone a late present just embarrasses yourself." I tried laughing at my statement to lighten up the mood around us, but I failed.

Harley gave a very slow nod. Somehow, in the short time I was talking to him, he managed to get drunk quicker than how ever long he was here before I came. I just stared at him for a while, noticing how he wasn't even giving me eye-contact. His head was slumped downwards, and he looked a bit dizzy.

I sighed and slid out from the booth. It took a while for him to react, but when he did, he did so violently. He grabbed my wrist, his nails digging into my skin as he pulled me back down. I fell back into the booth roughly, my hip banging into the table and causing some of his liquor to splash out of the glass.

"Oww—!" I yelped. "Let me go!" I ordered.

But, he kept his grip. "I didn't say you had to leave," he said, sounding a bit more coherent.

"All right," I snapped. "Then let me _go,_" I repeated, shaking off his grip.

Harley finally let go. "So, what do you want to do?" he asked.

I blinked. "I thought you said you weren't in the mood."

"Well, yes, but that was before I realized you were going to throw a tantrum about it," he explained.

"Tantrum? I wasn't—" I stopped mid-sentenced and sighed. "Never mind."

Harley finished off his cigarette and extinguished the last of it on the ashtray. He leaned back and said, "I suppose I'm going to have to go out and do something with you, as I can't imagine you'd want to sit in here and drink with me all day."

"Yeah, you're right, I wouldn't," I told him bitterly. "Even if I was allowed to," I magnified further.

"Oh, Maximus," he sighed, reaching out and touching my shoulder.

I stiffened at his touch, not sure why he was doing it. He patted my shoulder a couple of times before he returned to leaning against the back of the booth. Honestly, he seemed to be a mix of tiredness and drunkenness. I wasn't sure I wanted to spend my time with him anymore.

"You know," I began softly, "maybe you should just rest today. I do have some errands to run."

"Of course you do," he laughed. "I imagine you have to go visit all your little friends in this city, too, huh?"

Now I couldn't tell what was up with him. Maybe he was cranky, too. I wanted to get up and leave again, but I was scared of what he might do. I looked down at my wrist, which was light pink where he grabbed me. I could even see light engravings of where his nails had been. The whole situation depressed me all of the sudden.

"Harley, maybe I really should go," I tried explaining.

Harley removed his green hat, placing it next to him. He ran his left hand through his hair again, either trying to straighten it or just busy himself. "If you feel that way, I hope you realize you wasted a lot of time coming here."

I_ had_ already realized that. I was about to say something, but then paused, watching a young girl and a man, who I presumed were father and daughter, enter the lounge. The girl looked about my age, and her father appeared to be some sort of businessman. They both sat a table far from us, but I could tell they were talking happily about something.

Harley noticed where I was looking and asked, "Maximus, have you ever had a girlfriend?"

"W-_What_?" I blurted out, turning bright red as I looked back at him.

A very smooth and slightly insolent grin formed on the man. "Just wondering," he told me.

I continued to blush. "I… I'm _twelve_."

"Is that an excuse?" he pondered. "Not a very good one, if it is."

"Well, have you—?" I paused, knowing my question wasn't going in the right direction. I was suddenly very confused, and my mind seemed to fog.

Why would Harley even ask a thing like that? I wanted to rebuttal with the same question, but, well, I sort of knew Harley would never have had a _girlfriend…_ and the whole thing just made me feel so uncomfortable. I mean, that was such a rude thing to assume and what if I was assuming all the wrong things about the man? I wanted to bury my face in my hands, preventing him from seeing my continual glow of red.

Harley let out a very loud laugh. He even slammed his hand on the table to show additional amusement. "_No,_" he stated. It took me a while to realize he was answering the question I never quite got out. "No, and that will be a phenomenon I hope never to be familiar with," he explained.

Now I wasn't so much blushing for being asked such a personal question but for having him admit something like that to me. There were some things I just never really wanted to think about. But, for some reason, words just kept coming out of my mouth:

"So, that um, means… yeah…"

"Yes, Maximus," he said between stifled laughs. "Yes, I'm a fag."

"I, uh… oh." I fidgeted in my seat a bit more but tried to get myself to relax. "Okay," I shrugged.

Harley gave me a smile, but I wasn't sure why. I wasn't even sure what to say, really. And, the fact he used such a rude label just boggled me even more. Those were the kinds of words my parents taught me never to say, but I then heard my father use when he was angry about something. I put a hand to the back of my head and tried to return a smile at the man.

For whatever reason, Harley seemed to realize and accept my discomfort. He stood up, balancing himself on the back of the booth and sliding out from the table. I did the same, wondering if Harley needed help standing. But, when he managed to stand up fully, he seemed to be doing fine on his own.

"I'm not drunk," he told me.

He was lying, but I shrugged and repeated, "Okay."

"Now, honestly,"—he turned to me as he spoke—"what are we going to do?" He put back on his hat, straightening it on his head to get it in the right position.

"I don't know," I said once more. I began rustling around the poncho in my hands again.

Harley took notice of it for the first time and gave a disapproving look. "Max," he started, in a very serious tone, "do you realize how _stupid _you look in that?"

I furrowed my brow. "It's a _poncho_. How am I supposed to look?"

"Exactly—it's a poncho, and no one should have to wear one," he clarified. "Now _that _puts something on our agenda."

"What…?" I wondered.

"Buying you an umbrella," he said. "It's funny, in a way. I mean, it's Norman's birthday and everyone should be giving him gifts and yet he's neglected to give his own son an umbrella." He grabbed my poncho, holding it up and shaking his head.

I just stared at him, puzzled.

"Oh, how could a father send his son out into the world with one of these?" he asked.

I grabbed my poncho back. "Stop," I said. "Why do you have to criticize something that doesn't matter?"

Harley sighed, seeming to regain some of his precision. He still appeared a bit befuddled, regardless. "I want to get you a blue umbrella."

I raised my arms in confusion. "What? Why?"

"Maybe a green one," he went on.

"Stop!" I shouted.

He did. And, he looked down at me, not saying a single word. Harley just kept his gaze on me, seeming very interested in my stillness as I stared back up at him with a creased brow of puzzlement.

The purple-haired man pursed his lips and put his hands on his hips, asking, "How old is Norman going to be today?"

"Thirty-four," I informed him. "Why?"

"And, you're twelve?" he wondered, ignoring my own question.

"Yeah. _Why_?" I repeated.

Again, he looked at me, tilting his head slightly. "Because you look like him," he said. "And, it's interesting."

"I don't see why," I commented. "He's my father, after all."

With Harley's affirmation of his sexuality, I was starting to get the feeling his admiration for my father was a little bit more. I could imagine him swooning over my dad the same way girls did for movie stars, and it disturbed me.

"Well, duh, Maximus," he droned. He then slapped a hand down on my shoulder again. "Now, let's look for an umbrella shop!"

I really wanted to say no, but he had already managed to stand and was walking away. I followed slowly, looking at the father and daughter over at the other side of the lounge just before we exited into the lobby. It seemed so bright compared to the dim lounge, and when I looked at Harley, I could see he had circles under his eyes. I had a feeling this man was in a constant state of tiredness his entire life, never getting enough sleep and never attempting.

"Harley?" I called out, stopping. He became still and turned around. Now I lost the courage to talk to him as he gave me that same weird look. "Um, are you okay?"

The man's wide eyes closed a bit as he readied himself for a serious answer. "I'm tired," he told me once again. "How many times must I say that?"

"I don't want an umbrella," I said. "I'm being serious."

Harley finally seemed to realize what I had said. He bit his bottom lip, and I wondered if he was going to tell me to go away. I wouldn't have had a problem with that actually, because I was starting to feel there was no point being here in the first place. I had intended to spend some time with him, seeing as how we were both bored, just like yesterday, but today he was different, and in a sense, sort of scary.

"Do you mind if I wash my face?" Harley wondered. But, he didn't wait for an answer. He began walking towards the elevators over on the right side of the lobby, heading back for his room.

I wasn't sure if I was supposed to come with him. He made it to where the elevators were, pressing the call button and just stood there, waiting. When he looked back, over his shoulder, to see if I was coming, I slowly made my way over to him.

"I've never been in a hotel like this," I told him, just to avoid the silence.

"I figured," he responded. "Your friends were so cheap."

"Cheap? Ash and Brock?"

"Yeah, those two," Harley nodded. "I'll never understand why you hung out with them."

"They were my friends," I defended.

"Lousy choice of some," Harley muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"It's not like you have any friends," I claimed. "And, boy, if you do, I don't even want to know who they are."

This made Harley laugh. An honest, timid laugh that made him lean his head back as he let out his amusement. He extended his arm towards me, and at first I thought he was going to hit me, but he ended up patting my head. Feeling degraded, I moved away, and as his hand slid away, he ran his fingers through my hair. I frowned, not sure if he meant to do that. Standing next to him, I felt so small. He was literally, like, six feet tall, and he towered over me.

The elevator arrived, and we both entered. It was even brighter than the lobby. Mirrors decorated the walls, and I felt that no matter where I looked, the lights were glaring back at me. Harley lazily leaned against the wall, possibly not being able to stand well on his own. If he wasn't drunk, like he claimed, what was wrong with him? I had never seen someone become a complete mess just by a lack of sleep. Some people became cranky or slow, but Harley was just loopy and _might as well_ have been drunk.

I looked at the panel of buttons, seeing he had pressed level eight earlier. There were ten levels all together. I wondered what the view looked like from the top.

"I need to go to bed," Harley muttered.

I said nothing. Was I _supposed_ to respond to that anyway?

Well, now I couldn't because we reached his floor. Harley basically stumbled out of the elevator, looking both left and right before he decided on which direction his room was located. Again, I followed with caution. He ended up finding his room, sliding a cardkey through the lock and opening the door. He actually waited for me, holding the door open and everything. I walked into the room, instantly disliking the fact all the lights were turned off. It was already so gloomy and sunless outside; there was no reason the indoors needed to match the mood.

"Be right back," the man said, walking into the bathroom diagonal from the entrance. He left the door open as he turned off the faucet and splashed his face with water.

I walked over to the large, sliding glass door and gazed out. The cement ledge blocked any good view, so I slid open the door, stepping outside onto the small balcony and peering over the ledge to see the city. The view wasn't that spectacular. I could see the Radio Tower, and, further off in the distance, Whitney's Gym and plantation.

I was getting wet from the rain, but luckily it was just drizzling. I was glad because that meant tomorrow could be clear skies. I heard a grunt from inside and turned to see Harley walking back into the main room, throwing his hat and cigarettes onto the floor and collapsing face-first on the unmade bed.

I went back inside, closing the door. I felt like asking him if he was okay again, but I already knew the answer, and he might have gotten mad at me for repeating myself. I examined the rest of the room, liking the colorful scheme of blues and grays. There was a television, coffee table and occasional chair behind a wall pillar, just opposite of the bed.

Harley mumbled something, which I couldn't make out, but he began moving around in the bed until he got himself under a single sheet. On the nightstand near the bed, I saw a bottle of water and a magazine. On the floor, just in front of the bed, were the rest of the bed sheets and a sock.

I sighed, not sure what to do.

xxxxx

_-Harley-_

I woke up coughing. I somehow managed to choke on my own saliva as I slept, causing me to sit up in a rush as I coughed and hacked my way back to a clear throat. When my breathing settled I noticed the disgusting taste in my mouth. I could taste the staleness of whiskey and dry salvia, and it sickened me.

It was five o'clock. For a moment, I thought it was five _in the morning, _and I was going to lie right back down. But, then I remembered having been awake earlier and being in the lounge. Then I remembered Max being there. Was that some drunken illusion, or was I remembering the previous day I had with him? No… _wait, _I remember him being in my room.

I shook my head, remembering somewhat hazily my very _real _conversation with him in the lounge. And, him coming up here with me and being out on the balcony. I got out of bed, peering around the small wall that separated the bedroom and living room areas. On the couch, I saw Max, lying down without with glasses and his eyes shut. The TV was on, but muted. For goodness sake, had he _really _spent his entire morning here?

I walked quietly over to the couch, peering over the backside of it and looking down at the boy. His eyelashes flickered in reaction to whatever dream he was having, and without his stupid glasses, he looked a bit less dorky and a lot more innocent. For whatever reason, I wanted to reach down and run my hand through his hair.

Actually, come to think of it, I remember doing that earlier. And, talking about his father quite a bit. _And_,admitting my nonexistent interest in the female specimen. Great. Had I molested this poor kid earlier or something? That would explain why he looked so dejected and exhausted. But, sadly, I seriously doubted I went that far. Now _that_ was something I would remember.

I chuckled, even as awful as that thought might have seemed. My small laugh stirred the boy for a second, but he continued to snooze.

'_How old is Norman going to be today?'_

I remember asking that to Max, who answered, "Thirty-four."

Thirty-four-fucking-years-old. That was ten years older than _moi_. Considering how I obsessed over that man at times, it should've been creepy. But, it wasn't it. At least not to me!

Max was—what did he say before? twelve?—and yet I could see every goddamn feature from his father right there on his pretty little face.

_Pretty_? Oh, goodness.

I walked away, going into the bathroom to brush my teeth. On the counter I could see excess water, unwiped and left to cause rust on the lovely faux marble stone. Max had probably done that, as I always wiped down the bathroom sink before I left. What a messy little fuck.

When I was finished brushing my teeth, I combed out my hair and straightened up my clothing. Then, I returned to the main room and noticed Max was now facing the other way, his face pressed against the back of the couch. Deciding it was time for him to wake-up, I approached the couch and jabbed him effortlessly with my right hand. I had to do it several times before he opened his eyes.

Confused, the boy blinked several times before his vision cleared and he realized where he was and who had awoken him. A second of fear, or something of the like, flashed on his face and he became so unsure of what he thought I was going to do or say.

"Enjoy your nap?" I asked.

"I… um… I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" I repeated. Then I smiled. He must have thought I was angry with him. "Ha, don't be." I sat down on the coffee table as he lifted himself up, leaning against the back of the sofa.

"What time is it?" he asked, squinting.

"It's five o'clock," I said, reaching for his glasses on the coffee table. A deluded part of me wanted to put them on him myself. But, I killed the urge by just handing them to him. "Looks like we wasted our day."

"I was awake for a while," he told me. "After you fell asleep I wasn't sure whether or not I should leave you, so just watched TV."

Leave me? Did he really think I was dying or something? Even though I had been drinking early in the morning, I hadn't necessarily been drunk. It was just a mix of not sleeping last night and a _tinsy _bit of alcohol. After Max and I had eaten, I came back here and relaxed, but ended up falling asleep until midnight. As hard as I tried, I couldn't get back to sleep. So, I had spent most of the night doing absolutely nothing until I decided to go downstairs to the bar.

"That was sweet," I decided on saying. "Do you want some food, Maximus?"

The boy gave a disappointed expression at the sound of the nickname. But, he managed to say in a rather pleasant tone: "You already treated me to a meal last night. I'm okay."

I got up and walked over to the hotel phone, picking it up. "Don't you ever know how to just accept the _kindness _of people?" I mused, dialing for room service.

Max said something quietly, probably something rude that was better for me not to hear. I wanted to tell him to shut up, but someone answered the phone. I made a quick and simple order by just asking them to bring up two plates of whatever they thought was a nice dinner meal. I hung up and walked back over to the couch, on the way, picking up my cigarettes, which were on the floor next to my hat. I plopped myself down next to Max on the couch, and I could feel him stiffen at being relatively close to me.

"Tell me," I voiced, putting my feet on the coffee table as I removed a cigarette from the box, "how do you think May would react if she knew I had you in my hotel room?"

Max's eyes widened, _very obviously _not liking how I phrased that one. "I don't know," he answered miserably. "Why do you like talking about her so much?"

I snorted and threw my cigarette box on the table. "Oh, believe me, I _don't. _It's the thought of blowing her casket that I like."

Max muttered something, reaching for the remote and unmuting the television. "Oh, and by the way," he said, grabbing a flyer underneath several magazines on the coffee table, "I found this."

I took the flyer he handed to me. I couldn't recall where it came from, but it was a just a stupid advertisement for a Contest in Olivine City. "That's not why I'm going," I immediately said.

"I figured, but you should enter it anyway," he urged in a bright tone.

"I do not want to," I huffed, trying to search my pockets for my lighter. I couldn't find it, though. I figured it had fallen out while I was asleep, and I was far too lazy to get up and search through the sheets. "Fuck, forget it," I hissed, throwing the stick onto the table, next to the box.

"Oh, I also found this," Max said, reaching into his pocket and revealing a dull, but nonetheless, golden-colored rectangular item.

I yelped in excitement when I realized it was my missing lighter. And, not the one I _just _lost, but the zippo one, whose disappearance caused me to carry around that unsightly disposable thing. "Oh, goodness!" I continued, taking it from the boy. "You have no idea how long I've been looking for that one. Where'd you come across it?"

"It was underneath the sofa cushion," he informed.

I raised an eyebrow. "What, did you search the entire place while I was asleep?" I questioned. "But, never mind that. _Thank you._" I reached over and retrieved my cigarette again, lighting it up.

"It's just a lighter," he muttered. "I don't get why you're freaking out about it."

"_Because, _Maximus," I explained, "it's just about the prettiest lighter I ever owned."

Max shrugged, watching as I blew smoke from my nose and put my feet back on the table. I exhaled deeply, officially relaxed.

The boy continued to stare, and from the corner of my eye, I allowed myself to enjoy how he looked at me. I would've laughed if someone told me a few weeks—or _days_—ago that I would not only be spending time with May's little brother, but also fighting the urge to make a playful move on the kid. Even though I was intrigued by Max's resemblance to Norman, I wasn't sure if that was all. Was I repressing some kind of urge, or did I just want to screw with this kid's head and make him think I was trying to find some substitute for his father?

Needing to say something, I voiced, "So, did your daddy teach you if you smoking is _soooo_ immoral?"

Max huffed. "Not in so many words," he admitted, "but _I do_ think it's pretty nasty."

"Nasty, hmm, that's cute," I mocked, his choice of a word entertaining.

The two of us just sort of sat there for a good ten minutes, not saying a single word. The smell of my cigarette was filling the room, but Max didn't seem too bothered.

Eventually, I looked up when I heard a knock at the door. I rose from the sofa and went to open it. The male servant routinely asked if this was correct room and then handed me the tray of food. I was too lazy to get my bag and find money for a tip, so I let him go empty-handed. As I carried the tray into the room I noticed Max was standing up now, probably just wanting to be polite. I placed the tray down on the coffee table, lifting the two metal covers from the plates and revealing the food.

"I never thought hotels actually did this kind of stuff," Max admitted, looking down at the plates filled with steamed vegetables, rice, fried tofu, and slices of rye bread.

Smiling, I patted the boy's shoulder, which made him flinch. His reactions to physical contact were interesting, and gave me all the more reason to keep testing his limits. I kneeled down in front of the coffee table, sliding my legs under it as I set-up my plate in front of me. There was a large phial of iced water and two glasses.

"I need a drink," I sighed, extinguishing my cigarette and intending to save the rest for later.

Max was busy sitting down next to me, which made me smile, knowing he didn't want to eat out on the balcony or roof… or street.

"You mean alcohol?" he wondered afterwards.

"I sure do," I said, getting up again and going to the nightstand near the bed. I opened the small cabinet underneath it, where a few glass bottles of alcohol, courtesy of this lovely hotel, were stored. I grabbed the unopened vodka and brought it back to the table with me.

"Why—?" Max began, but stopped himself. He shook his head, grabbing a fork and messing with his fried tofu. He took a bite and smiled. "Mmm, this is really good."

"Only the best for Maximus," I teased, pouring the vodka into my own glass.

As Max poured himself some water, he took notice of the vodka's clear resemblance to his own drink. He also watched as I stabbed some vegetables onto my fork. Then watched as I ate them.

"Why are looking at me?" I asked with my mouth full.

Max's eyes narrowed as he thought about something. "Sorry," he apologized.

I smiled at this. Oh, wouldn't it be fun if he were perhaps having the same issues I was? Maybe then I wouldn't feel the need to actually screw with the kid's mind and instead move things in the direction of getting to screw_ him_. I thought about this fully for the first time and bit my lip, enjoying the notion a lot more than I expected. Exactly how would Max react to _those kind_ of touches? Would he fight me on it or would he be curious?

I gave a quick huff, stretching out my shoulder muscles to try and relax. Honestly, now, I didn't anticipate having such a stimulating reaction to it all. I gave a short glance over at the boy but had to look away, knowing I would be tempted to continue with my thoughts. Or possibly put them into motion.

Despite everything he was going through with May, I was pretty shocked Max didn't want to run and hide from me. Well, in a way, he had after our battle, but we did end up eating lunch together, and then, this morning, he went through the trouble of tracking me down. Max had never forgiven me for what I did to May, but now the past didn't even seem to register with him. I could very well construe this into something else just to justify what I wanted to do to him all of the sudden, but that seemed like something only a guilty child molester would do. But, anything was possible. I mean, now that Max knew my faggotry was official, why did he want to continue hanging around me? There weren't a lot twelve year-olds who would.

"Do you like the food?"

I blinked, realizing Max had asked a question. "Yes, yes," I answered, almost dismissing the inquiry entirely.

"Are you okay?" he then wondered. He looked at my glass, checking to see if I was getting drunk, but I hadn't taken a single sip. For goodness sake, were my thoughts really messing with my overall behavior?

"I'm fine," I assured. "Just not that hungry all the sudden." I threw down my fork and leaned against the couch. As uncomfortable as I was on the floor, I wanted to continue sitting next to Max.

Max gave me a slightly concerned look, and I could tell he was pondering whether he had anything to do with it. And, he damn well did, that stupid fuck. He was close to the coffee table as he ate, and since I was further away, leaning against the couch, his back was to me. I was glad.

But, even with his back towards me, I still found features to look at. His short hair, long in the back, wasn't enough to cover the nap of his neck, nor the ruff of his collared, green shirt. I could see his pale skin there, so completely smooth and clean. Of course, his short-sleeved shirt revealed his arms, and with his shorts, his legs were exposed… but his neck, _oh my, _his neck was just captivating. I could imagine the warmth of it if I put my hand there. Even better, I knew I could feel his pulse there, too.

His green shirt was rather long, ending far after his hips so that he sat on an inch or two of it at the moment. That was for his own good, since I imagined that if his weight weren't on it, I would slide my fingers underneath the fabric, letting my hand glide over his back and up to that warm, smooth, clean neck of his.

There was a distinct stir in my lower stomach, and goddamn, did I ever feel the need to attend to it. Instead, I busied myself by grabbing my glass of vodka and drinking, but of course, since I was beginning to assume Max was a little malicious faunlet, he stared at me as I did so. He _must have_ been a faunlet, because he then licked his lips, wiping away the sauce from the vegetables, which just coincidentally ended up getting around his mouth, because, oh yes, he was _trying _to provoke my thoughts.

I had an awfully unfortunate lack of self-control. I should've gotten a medal for not grabbing Max's collar and forcing our chests to fuse together as I claimed his mouth… his modest little mouth that had been covered in that tangy sauce because the world was a bitch of a torture chamber that _wanted _me to go mad… What a cock-tease this boy was!

Max had his attention focused on the television. There was a commercial on, but he didn't seem all that interested. I was, meanwhile, still dealing with my increasing carnal desires, trying outrageously hard not to think about Max. So, for some reason, I thought about May, which, admittedly, at least helped that certain stir just _plummet_, but the girl's horridness made me wonder why Max had been blessed with their father's flawlessness and not his sister, too. Whether or not she had didn't change the fact she possessed a cunt, but at least some women were _pretty _and decent. That Team Rocket member, Jessie—who had the _biggest _ego in universe and was guilty of at least twenty stereotypical womanly faults—at least took the time to look decent.

Oh, Team Rocket, _now there _was a subject I could breach without feeling completely idiotic. I waited several more minutes for Max to finish the vegetables (in case he chose to turn around and display to me his mouth dabbed with that sauce) and then spoke up:

"Whatever happened to that Team Rocket gang?"

To my surprise, Max didn't stiffen. But, Jessie and what's-his-name were never much of threat anyway, so they couldn't possibly incite fear just by the mention of their name. I'm sure they would've liked to _think _so, but, well, the truth was their own lame fault.

Max turned (how smart I was waiting for him to finish eating!) and answered, "I don't know. If they're around, they're probably still chasing Ash."

"Oh, so you're not in touch with _them _anymore?" I concluded. My God, Max must have been incredibly lonely these days.

"Brock and Ash? Not really." He shrugged. "They're still traveling together, though. Brock sent me a guidebook before I came here, though. Do you want to see it?"

I snorted and shook my head. "No, it's okay," I answered. Then, "Those two are still traveling together, eh?"

Max caught my tone and defended, "It's not like _that, _no, Harley."

I should've laughed at how he defended the two's supposedly platonic relationship, but I was too caught up on how he said my name. That was certainly delightful. But, I decided to play with the subject more by asking, "Then why on earth would those two still be traveling together after, what, four years?"

"They've been traveling together longer than that," Max said, but he quickly realized his statement really hadn't done much to support his defense. "They're with this girl named Hikari¹ now," he retried.

I just chuckled at how hard he was trying to defend the two. Either he was sincerely bothered or perhaps pondering the situation for himself. I didn't want to make the kid strain himself with the never-ending possibilities so I said:

"Don't _worry, _Maximus. I'm very doubtful about those two. Take it from me."

Max narrowed his eyes. He had done this before at the lounge when we stumbled into the subject, and I was slightly despondent at how easily he was getting uncomfortable. Then again, he had no problem hanging around _me _at seven o'clock at night.

Seven o'clock. Oh, my. It was dark out now. Was Max going to go back to the Pokémon Center?

"Hey, you know," I began, clearing my throat and running a hand through my hair, "you can stay here _if you want._"

Max gave a puzzled expression. "Huh?"

"You can stay here tonight, if you want," I explained. "It's late and some freak might jump out and mug you for your poncho if you go back to the Center."

Startled by the offer, Max looked over to his backpack. "Oh… Well, I have all my stuff anyway…"

"Is that a yes?" I wondered.

Max flushed—oh, now what could that mean, I wonder!—and gave an almost invisible shrug. "Um, okay…"

I grinned, showing my teeth slightly. Well, if inviting the boy to stay the night was enough to make him turn colors, then I might've had a very consensual case on my hands. Though, this kid got so uncomfortable by even the slightest things, I doubted it meant anything huge. Maybe I should've told him that it was regulatory to have my guests sleep in the same bed as me, just to see how he'd react. That might have gotten me smacked. Oh, but the idea of Max trying to hit me was more fun than threatening.

"This is fantastic," I dramatized. "Have you ever had a sleepover, Maximus? Do you know your proper conduct? If so, I hope you're okay with the fact _this certain host_ isn't too keen on handing over his bed to guests."

Max gaped, confused if he was really supposed to answer any of that. He finally just decided on the last one and said, "I can sleep on the couch."

Oh, how I wanted to argue that! But, was I really going to have little Maximus in my hotel room all night? Goddamn, the thought thrilled me. But, if I was going to break the give-your-guest-the-bed courtesy than the least I could do was not sneak up behind the boy and give him a surprise wank. Unless, of course, he wanted me to…

"I'm all done," Max announced, placing down his fork and wiping his mouth with one of the cloth napkins.

"Hmm, I guess I am, too," I grunted, sitting up properly and replacing the metal cover over my plate. I then grabbed the half-burnt cigarette and relit it, pleased to be able to do so with my favorite lighter.

Max readjusted his position, sitting cross-legged and stuttering out, "Harley, um… thanks for all of this. The food—from today and yesterday—and um, now for letting me stay here. Those beds at the Pokémon Center can be pretty uncomfortable."

And, so could couches. I knew a solution to both, Maximus.

Smiling, I just said, "_I had to _let you stay here. It's the least I can do to thank you for finding my darling lighter."

Max shrugged. "That was just luck."

I finally just decided to fuck it all to hell and extended my arm, wrapping it around the boy's shoulder playfully and pushing him against my side. I rattled him a little, saying, "See, now maybe you'll finally realize Harley isn't as bad as you thought," I stated. Even with my arm wrapped around the boy, I took a drag of my cigarette, having to lean in so our cheeks were close and the crook of my arm was pressed against his mouth.

Max moved his face back and slowly squirmed his way out of my possession. It was short, but enough to stabilize me and possibly prevent me from jumping on the boy later in the night. And, despite the limited time I had his mouth pressed into my arm, I realized how soft and moist those lips of his were. My own lips, which were guilty of being occasionally chapped and dry, would have been a nice contrast against his. Fuck, I wanted to corrupt that kid into doing some pretty outlandish things with me!

Having lost all physical contact with Max, I inhaled my cigarette fully. I looked at Max's plate of food, most of the food eaten except for the piece of bread, which had a single bite taken off. I reached for it, instead of my own, and ate the rest. Max seemed disturbed by the fact I ate his leftovers, and that was half the reason I did it—the other half being I wanted to taste where his mouth had been. I stood up afterwards, grabbing the tray and walking to the door.

"Be a dear and open the door for me," I told Max, knowing I wouldn't be able to balance the tray with one hand.

Max listened and stood up to help me. He opened the door, watching me as I placed the tray into the hall.

"They'll come and get that," I assured, soothing Max's disapproving stare.

"Have you been to the Game Corner here?" the boy blurted out as I walked back over to the coffee table.

I gave a shrug as I picked up the water phial, which I kept in case I wanted to drink something _normal_, and placed it on top of a magazine to prevent water rings. "Believe it or not, I'm not the gambling type."

"Hmm," Max voiced, obviously surprised.

"Why? Do you want to play with your luck?" I wondered. "You're not old enough."

"No, I don't and wouldn't want to anyway," he declared. "I just figured since you seem so, _I dunno_, into that kind of stuff."

"Losing money?" I concluded. "The only people interested in that are the wee old men and ladies who are about to expire soon anyway and don't give a flying fuck they might be throwing away their money."

Max rolled his eyes. He was quiet for a moment, but suddenly, some kind of revelation slapped him against the face. "Oh, great," he muttered, putting his face in his hands. "I forgot to call my dad!"

"Oh, my! Norman was expecting a call from his precious son?"

Max sighed, rolling his eyes at me and possibly for himself.

"Well, you can still call him," I said, gesturing towards the phone. "It's not a gaudy videophone, but it will do, no?"

The boy seemed so disappointed in himself. I was actually sort of proud I had been enough to distract him from calling his own father. I must have been _quite _the company.

"They can't, like, track the number, can they?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

I laughed. "Do they have a reason to? Does Maximus have a dark past of staying in places he's not supposed to?"

Max had no time to analyze my criticism. "I don't want them to know I'm calling from some five-star hotel."

"Four-star, actually," I corrected. I pointed towards the bathroom. "_See_? No tub."

"Whatever," the boy dismissed. He walked over to the phone and dialed the number. For a moment, I thought he might have been retarded because he dialed exhaustingly slow. But, he finished sooner or later and waited for someone to pick-up.

I sat on the couch, finishing my cigarette and throwing it on the ashtray to die out on its own. I contemplated shouting out something dirty when Max began talking, but that was too cruel.

"Hello?" I heard him say. After a pause, he said, "Yeah, it's me."

He went on, apologizing for how he hadn't called earlier, lying to them by saying he was busy training. So, he _could _be devilish, after all. That was good to know.

"How was the party?" he asked.

I looked over my shoulder to see Max was now sitting on my bed, very close to my pillow. I grinned and stood back up so I could casually walk over to the bed and sit down on it myself.

"She did? Oh…"

_She_? I figured they were talking about May as I could clearly hear a change in Max's tone. Hmm, despite having changed my motive with spending time with Max, I had to admit I was still heavily interested in knowing what happened between the two little siblings.

"Well, I'm glad you had a nice birthday, Dad. I'm really sorry for calling so late."

I smiled, falling backwards on the bed, far enough away from Max not to scare him, but close enough to personally thrill myself.

"Okay, Dad, I promise. Happy birthday. Bye." Max hung up the phone immediately and sighed shortly after. "You said you had no siblings, right?" he asked.

"Nope, sure don't," I reaffirmed. He obviously wanted to share some kind of story only those who had siblings could understand, but I figured I could give him some empathy. "Why, Maximus?"

"Never mind," he grunted.

Still lying on the bed, I rolled onto my stomach, reaching far out to place my hand on the boy's bare knee. "I can guess that your daddy just made you feel a bit less important than _May,_" I deduced, feeling a shiver through Max's body as my hand continued to lie on his warm knee. Ah, it felt quite pleasant to touch him.

To my utter surprise, Max did not get up. He continued to sit there. "Well, May didn't forget to get my dad a present, so I'm sure he's much more pleased with her than me at the moment."

I raised an eyebrow. "It didn't sound like you two were arguing just now. _In fact, _you sounded quite chipper. I doubt he really gives a damn about a present anyway."

Max gave a quick laugh at himself. "I think you're right. But, I don't know what's wrong with me. I get so jealous of May sometimes, and I never used to before. And, I can't stand it when I call my parents and they mention her, because I didn't call to hear about May, I called to talk to them."

I was glad Max wasn't looking at me, because I gave the widest grin as I heard him express his envy and intimidation over his sister. I moved a single finger over his knee, though I knew he wouldn't understand it as physical comfort.

"You're really not the right person to talk to about May," Max groaned.

"True!" I exclaimed, turning over onto my back again and losing the contact with Max. I was closer to Max now, so I raised my arm, placing my hand on his shoulder. Since his back was to me, my arm crept up against his posterior, my fingers wrapping around near his collarbone. "But, Max, I truly would not dwell on it so much. I bet every time May calls, all Norman does it talk about _you._"

Max became a tinsy bit rigid, and not because I was molesting his shoulder, but because he seemed to really consider my statement. I knew he didn't want to admit this, because he suddenly said, "Hey, you know it's not even raining anymore."

"It isn't?" I wondered. I used his shoulder as leverage to pull myself up and it was at that point that Max sat up and pulled away from my touch. He walked all the way over to the window.

"Yeah," he said. "Maybe that means the train will be open tomorrow!" His mood brightened.

"Might be," I considered. "I have a times table over there, so go check the schedule," I explained, pointing to the coffee table.

Max muttered something about me being lazy, but ultimately did what I asked. When he found the times table, he began reading off the times: "Seven, ten, noon, and uh, three in the afternoon."

I hissed. "Oh, I'm not waking up early to catch a fucking train," I complained. "Let's take the three o'clock."

"Let's?" Max echoed.

I was getting sleepy lying on the bed, so I closed my eyes and just said, "Why yes, Maximus. I don't see why we should submit ourselves to loneliness when we are taking the same train."

I heard Max throw down the paper. "Well, aren't you going to Olivine? I'm going to Ecruteak."

"Well, then, I guess you can wave goodbye to me with a handkerchief as I stay on the train and go to Olivine." I began removing my jacket, throwing it on the floor. Another part of being a host was not sleeping the nude, so I left my black shirt and pants on, removing only my belt to stay comfortable. I really needed to buy some pajamas.

"Are you going to bed?" Max wondered. I swear, I could hear the discomfort in his voice, knowing he was watching me remove pieces of my clothing.

"I think I might just be," I told him. I took a pillow from underneath my head and threw it in his direction. "Here, you can have that one." I then wadded up one of the thinner sheets on the bed and chucked that at him. "That, too." I had done some rather personal things in this bed, so I hoped Max enjoyed my scent. Which, in my opinion, he had no reason _not to_ enjoy it.

My eyes still closed, I heard Max shake out the sheet and set it up on the couch. Ahh, Maximus really was spending the night in my room.

I'm sure May would've died had she known… and that made it even better.

xxxxx

_-Max-_

I smelt an odd combination of cheese, eggs, pepper and salt directly underneath my nose. I swear I could feel the heat of the meal in my nostrils, the steam hitting my eyelids and creating just the slightest bit of precipitation. What an odd dream, I thought to myself, turning away and pushing my head into the puffy pillow. Pressing my face against it, I began smelling something new, very sharp and torrid. I had smelt it before, on someone, I believe. I wasn't sure who, but when I heard a clank of glass nearby, I realized I wasn't alone and allowed myself to get out of my daze, blinking a few times before I fully awoke.

"That's it," a voice said.

_Harley._

Yesterday flooded back. I thought I was sleeping at the Pokémon Center, completely forgetting how I ended up in Harley's hotel room. I gave a deep breath, sitting up slowly as my vision unblurred. I still couldn't see all the way, slightly lost without my glasses. But, I could see Harley sitting on the coffee table across from the couch, a tray of food next to him and a cigarette in his hand.

"Good morning," he greeted, smiling at me. He was dressed properly, complete with his green hat covering his slightly damp hair, which I guessed was due to him taking a shower or something. Last night he had stripped off his jacket and belt, and I had discovered that his black shirt was really a black tank-top, which surprised me for some reason.

I had slept in a similar state, changing into my white pajama shirt, but keeping my regular shorts on. I didn't want to change fully into my pajamas, believing that was making myself _too comfortable _as a guest in Harley's hotel room.

I cleared my throat and responded back, "Morning."

The man continued to smile. Whatever made Harley so chipper and smiley sort of was freaking me out. The smoke emitted from his cigarette smelt just like my pillow. It must have been his scent embedded in the fabric, along with some kind of light and soft lavender nonsense. It wasn't really the most pleasant thing, two polar opposite scents contrasting as they mixed together.

Harley picked up a plate of eggs, waving it around under my nose. He must have done that to me earlier. I took the plates, annoyed with how he was shoving it in my face. He then handed me a fork, continuing to give me a weird grin.

"How did you sleep?" he wondered.

I placed the plate of eggs on my lap, not really wanting to eat anything. "Fine," I said. And, it was true. I hadn't even stirred in the slightest last night.

Harley tightened the cigarette between his fingers, inhaling a large amount of smoke and blowing it out of his nose. Some of the smoke came my way, but I was too distracted by the smell of eggs to be bothered by the tobacco. Suddenly, Harley moved, sitting up from the coffee table and plopping himself down on the couch next to me. He made me lose my comfortable position as I tried to keep the plate of eggs from slipping out of my hand. His legs rested on the coffee table now, and he motioned towards the window behind us with his cigarette as he said:

"See the weather?"

I turned, not even noticing anything before. From the window, I could see a bright and luminance light shining through, casting shadows on just about every object in the room. I placed the plate on the table and walked over to the window, seeing the city in vibrant colors instead of dark, gloomy hues.

"Wow, I can't believe it's this nice out," I said.

Harley gave a sound of agreement. He put his still-burning cigarette on the ashtray, grabbing a bagel from the tray of food and taking a large bite out of it. "There's a pool here," he said, his mouth full of bread. "We should go swimming."

"No thanks," I rejected, walking back over to the couch. "We need to catch the train."

Harley huffed. "It's 9:40," the man informed me, "and chances of making it to the station aren't in our favor."

"_What_? Why'd you wake me up so late then!"

"I didn't wake up too early myself, Maximus," Harley told me. "I woke up at eight o'clock, took a shower, and then ordered breakfast for us."

"You took a shower but now you want to swim?" I asked.

There was one glass of orange juice, which made me realize I was thirsty. I claimed the drink by taking a rather large gulp. I then scratched the back of my head, knowing my hair must have been messy. Harley didn't seem to mind, but I felt rather rude looking so unkempt.

"I don't want to swim, actually," he explained, finishing his bagel. "I want to sit out in the sun."

"How _boring,_" I declared. "You're such a woman."

Harley automatically shot a look at me. "That's not very nice of you," he muttered, a sincere tone of anger. He reached for his cigarette again. "But, tell me, if I was a _woman, _how gorgeous do you think I'd be?"

I furrowed my brow. "Uh… I don't know," I stuttered out. What kind of question was that anyway? Gosh, Harley was weird.

"Hopefully nothing like that sister of yours," he groaned.

"May's not ugly," I defended, frowning.

"You're her brother. Of course you'd say that." He threw his head back as he gave a small laugh. "Don't let that offend you, because I'm not judging your sweet face," he continued, reaching out and giving me a soft, almost effortless, pat on the cheek.

Compliment or not, I stiffened, not wanting him to touch my face ever again. Why he insisted on touching me so much was beyond me, but I wish he knew how degraded I felt when he did so. I wanted to tell him that, but I wasn't sure how he'd react.

I noticed the untouched plate of eggs Harley was pushing in my face earlier. I felt bad not eating the meal he obviously ordered for me, so I picked up the fork and plate and began picking at the food. When I peered over at Harley with the corner of my eye, I could see he was satisfied I had decided to eat.

"We should go swimming," Harley repeated in the exact same tone he had stated it earlier. It seriously sounded like this was the first time he was asking. I guessed he was trying to insist upon the idea.

"I don't feel like it," I decided to say.

Harley brushed his fingers through his hair quickly. "There's no harm in just enjoying the nice weather, Max."

The use of my name, and not that cursed nickname, made me tempted to say yes. He sounded pleasant for once, not forceful or unrelenting. I stayed quiet as I finished eating the plate of eggs. Afterwards, I felt the need to brush my teeth. I put the plate back on the wooden tray and reached for my backpack on the ground.

As I searched for the plastic case with my toothbrush inside, Harley flicked some of his cigarette's debris onto the ashtray. The cigarette basically useless, he just dropped it onto the ceramic dish. He then delicately picked up a small teacup, half-filled with some red tea. He had apparently been drinking it earlier.

"I have my bathing suit in here," I informed Harley dully, pulling it out of my bag along with my toothbrush case. "But, I still don't want to go. I just ate, after all."

Harley slammed down the cup of tea and shouted, "Oh, Max! That whole jibble is just a myth. Don't let it intrude on our fun."

I wondered why Harley so badly wanted me to go with him when he didn't even want to swim in the first place. I mean, how important was lying out in the sun?

Sighing, I unfurled my swimming trunks and looked at them. I hadn't swam in months, finding it boring alone. While I was staring at the dark blue apparel, Harley grabbed it from me.

"Well, look at that. Someone's always prepared," he announced. He smiled very widely. "Cute!" he commented, running his thumbs down the sides of the elastic fabric.

I blushed and grabbed them back. Somehow, the word "cute" didn't seem appropriate for a boy's bathing suit, especially one that belonged to me. I wondered if he was making fun of me.

Harley grinned at me as I continued to glow red with embarrassment. "You do know how to swim, right?" he wondered, leaning in closer and putting a hand over his mouth in mock-horror. "Or, do I have to give you swimming lessons?"

My redness deepened. He had _not _said that in a sensible tone. In fact, he made it sound like some flirty comment, and I was actually pretty sure it was. "N-No!" I stuttered. "I know how to swim." I was clamming up, completely focused on what he was possibly hinting at instead of what I was saying.

"That's good to know then," Harley stated, smacking his lips together in some concluding fuss.

Now I wasn't sure what to think. So, he was just making fun of me, right? God, I really had no idea. I became frustrated and rose from the sofa, walking into the bathroom and closing the door.

Even with the door closed, I could hear Harley giving a small laugh. It disturbed me.

I brushed my teeth, using the small tube of minty paste Harley left on the counter. Afterwards, I rinsed my brush and dried it so it wouldn't stain the plastic case. I felt like my bathing suit, which I placed on the counter as well, was staring at me. I knew it would fit me, but the thought of being in my bathing suit in front of Harley was terribly humiliating. I had never been self-conscious of my physical appearance, because I didn't really _care, _but with Harley it was different, I guess.

Harley always stared at me, and I just knew he was judging me. I could imagine him stifling a laugh as he looked at me in my swim trunks. I might as well have just ran out into the room in my underwear. It was basically the same thing.

I sighed again, not sure if I wanted to go swimming in the first place. It was a nice day out, and after dealing with yucky, rainy weather, it would've been a pleasant change of pace. But, I would've rather spent the morning training my Pokémon or battling.

Harley and I had battled the day before yesterday, but it felt like a million years ago. I would've inquired about another battle instead of a swim, but knowing I'd probably beat him, I didn't want to risk him getting upset and swearing revenge on me. Though, truth be told, he didn't seem to be up to anything these days. He really seemed bored and just wanted company, even if it ended up being me.

Not wanting Harley to think I died in the bathroom, I quickly changed into my swimsuit, feeling utterly ridiculous as I did so. I'm not sure why, but the whole idea of swimming began to just seem stupid all together. I looked at myself in the mirror, but because I still wasn't wearing my glasses, I couldn't see very well. I ended up grabbing a clean towel from a shelf, wrapping it around my shoulders like a cape. This way, I could cover my bare chest, and hopefully feel less retarded when I stepped out of the bathroom.

I gathered by clothes and toothbrush and exited the bathroom, taking the deepest breath ever as I did so. When I walked back into the room, Harley was all the way over near the bed, a white bathrobe on instead of his clothes. His clothes and hat were actually folded neatly on the bed, which was messily made. He himself had changed while I was, too, and I wondered what he would've said had I exited the bathroom earlier and walked in on him changing. Knowing Harley, he probably would've just laughed and continued changing without a care in the world.

Across the room, Harley just sort of looked at me. He had a rather neutral expression, but he was eyeing the towel I had wrapped around my shoulders. I wasn't sure if he thought I looked stupid the way I was wearing it, or if he was upset I had used a towel. I opened my mouth to say something, but Harley cut me off:

"Aren't you adorable," he commented.

I bit the inside of my cheek. Was he mocking me? It was so hard to tell with this man, so I didn't even bother mulling over it. I just walked back over to the sofa, noticing the tray of food was gone. I stuffed my toothbrush and clothes back into my bag and then put on my glasses.

"Ready?" he called out, grabbing a pair of sunglasses from his brown bag. He placed them on his head.

His hair, freshly washed from this morning, looked soft and shiny. His hair was actually longer than both May's and my mom's, and I wanted to know why a man would want it that long in the first place. As I pondered this, he ran his hand through his hair, fluffing it up to adjust to the sunglasses he had perched on his head.

"Yes, I'm ready," I finally responded. "I'm going to bring Kirlia," I then told him, having already grabbed the Pokéball from my bag.

"Fantastic!" he said, walking to the door and opening it for me.

I thanked him with a nod, walking out first and noticing the tray of breakfast was sitting out in the hall like he had done with the previous night's servings. That tray was gone, so I guessed the maids here really did just take them if you left the trays out like that. It was pretty rude in my opinion, but whatever.

"So," I began in a hushed tone, "are you going to get a tan or something?"

Harley shook his head, the two of us walking side by side. "No, I don't look good with a tan, Maximus. I just want to lie out in the sun. And, luckily, I don't tan easily so I won't have to worry."

"Oh," I voiced. "Do _you _know how to swim?" I then wondered, just wanting to throw back his original question to me.

"Of course, I do," Harley answered, sounding a bit insulted. He then grinned, extending only one side of his lips. "Why? Would you give _me_ swimming lessons if I didn't?"

I tightened the grip on Kirlia's Pokéball. "What's with you and swimming lessons?" I questioned, more to myself than him.

Harley chuckled, not wanting to answer aloud, apparently.

We took the stairs to the pool outside. It was in the back of the hotel, surrounded by a small picket fence. There were tons of tables with umbrellas, chairs, settees and lawn chairs. There were a number of people here and there, mostly couples and a few servants dressed in pure white clothing. They were taking orders and bringing drinks out.

The humid air against my face made me smile. It was _such _nice day out. You couldn't even tell it had been raining like crazy for the past week. I had a feeling the pool area was going to get busier as the morning continued.

Harley picked a corner with two lawn chairs and a table in the middle. The large umbrella sticking out from the middle of the table was large enough to provide a good amount of shade underneath each chair. Harley sat on the left-sided one, relaxing fully on the seat and pulling down his sunglasses over his eyes.

I just stood there, gripping the towel where it met at my collarbone. Still wearing it like a cape, I felt warm in it, the sun beating on my shoulders. I sat down after a while, looking around at the many people. No one was in their bathing suits. They were all in loose and thin clothing, but no one seemed up for a swim.

I threw Kirlia's Pokéball to release her, the red light beaming out and disappearing just as her feet landed on the ground. I caught the ball, placing it on the table and calling Kirlia over. I wasn't facing Harley anymore, but I could sense he was watching me. Kirlia gave a slightly curious look, wondering why I was with him again, but didn't seem to mind.

"You can just relax and enjoy the nice weather," I told her.

She responded with an excited squeal and nod. Afterwards, she wandered towards the edge of the pool to look at her reflection. I was enjoying the warmth emitted from the sun, but I didn't think I was patient enough to just lay here like Harley was doing.

I watched Kirlia sit down at the edge of the pool, soaking her long legs in the water. Across the distorted oval of a pool, there was a Poliwhirl and Sealeo playing with their trainers. I was suddenly really in the mood to battle someone. I turned to look at Harley, who was relaxing comfortably, not a care in the world. Because of his sunglasses, I couldn't tell if his eyes were open, but he was obviously daydreaming or something.

"Are you going to just lay here?" I wondered.

"That's the plan, yes," he answered. "I thought I told you that already."

I narrowed my eyes. "You did…" I muttered.

I noticed that despite the heat, Harley still had the thick white bathrobe tied against his body. He was barefoot, just like I was, but I wondered if he had his bathing suit on underneath the robe. It would probably be green just like all his other clothing. I sort of hated that he wore so much green, especially since it happened to be my favorite color. Knowing it was probably his, too, I was disturbed to realize we might share something in common.

Being with Harley around a pool made me think back to all the times I went swimming with Ash, Brock and May. We used to swim quite often, and it had been a lot of fun playing with them all in the water. As we traveled, it occurred less and less often, but I still cherished the memories of happier times with my sister.

"Are you just going to sit here?" Harley suddenly questioned.

"I don't know," I said once more. "I'm not in the mood to swim."

"Then why'd you come?" he snapped.

"Because you wanted to!" I explained in a huff.

"Oh?" he teased. "Well, I'm not sure I would've gone if you hadn't decided."

Confused, I just said, "_What_?" I realized that Harley previously claiming to go to the pool alone was just a way of getting me to come with him. He wouldn't have gone without me, because he wanted me here with him. I wasn't sure why, but I figured he was just messing with my head. "You're ridiculous."

Harley began laughing at my final statement. "All right," he dismissed, raising both his eyebrows to show he didn't care.

Very annoyed, I wanted to get away from him. I rose from the chair, letting the towel finally fall off my shoulders. I walked over to Kirlia, sitting next to her and dunking my feet into the water just like she did. I turned to give a quick look at the Pokémon and she cocked her head, wondering why I seemed so upset.

"Harley's a weirdo," I just said, and Kirlia returned to looking at the water.

I felt Harley's gaze on me, so I turned my head. He had his sunglasses back on the top of his head and was sitting up, completely focused. I frowned, not liking this at all. Kirlia turned to look at him, too. She then said something before sliding herself into the pool. The splash made me turn to her, watching as she swam around.

But, Harley kept looking at me. I was too far away to be sure, but I had a strong feeling he was looking at my bathing suit and that made me very uncomfortable. Wanting to get away from his gaze, I took off my glasses, placing them next to me before following Kirlia's actions and sliding my body into the water.

Kirlia swam over to greet me, and I splashed her with small effort as I tried to see if Harley was still watching me. He was. In fact, he seemed even more interested because he was no longer reclining on the chair; he was sitting up, as if he wanted to get a better look at what I was doing.

Half of me wanted to yell for him to cut it out, but what if he _wasn't _looking at me like I thought? I searched around to see if there was anything else around, but there was nothing I could find. Disturbed, I went underwater and swam all the way over to the other side of the pool. Kirlia followed happily.

"Why do you think he's looking at me?" I asked Kirlia.

Kirlia shrugged and just splashed me. I splashed her back, trying to seem like I didn't care if Harley was still eyeing me. When I had my back facing him, I quietly asked my Pokémon:

"Can you see if he's still looking at me?"

Kirlia caught onto my discomfort and casually glanced over to Harley. She then exclaimed, and I knew she said yes. I frowned heavily.

I tried my best to enjoy swimming around with Kirlia. She was very happy to be out in the nice weather, just like I was, but I could tell she didn't understand the _extent _of how worried Harley was making me feel. I mean, he even took off his sunglasses so he could watch me. That was plain creepy.

I knew Harley was a bit flip with his actions, which, to a point, explained some of the reasons he always patted my head or shoulder or knee. But, other times, he obviously wanted to do it for other reasons, reasons I couldn't quite grasp. Maybe that was just the way he acted, but it wasn't the most appropriate thing in the world. Though Harley and "appropriate" didn't seem to go together in the first place.

Still hoping to find something or someone around me that could possibly be what Harley was looking at, I realized that besides Kirlia, I was the _only one _in the entire pool. This made me very red, as I knew Harley was definitely looking at me now, and also, he had a great opportunity to look at me completely alone in the pool. I was horrified.

I swam back to where I left my glasses, getting out of the pool and grabbing them. I did my best to squeeze out the water from my hair before walking back over to the lawn chair and wrapping my towel around myself again. I did so more tightly than before then sat down on the chair and put my glasses back on. Harley had watched my every move, even turning to look at me as I sat here now.

He sensed my discomfort. After a while, he said, "You weren't lying when you said you could swim."

I slowly turned to look at him. He had a sly, almost wicked, grin on his face. His brow was lowered, looking satisfied as if he had just tricked someone into believing a lie.

"Of course I wasn't lying," I stated. As much as I tried to keep my voice strong, it was uncontrolled, and I knew it sounded like nothing more than childish backtalk.

Harley further looked at me, his eyes quickly moving down my body, trying to go down fast to make me not notice. But, I did. And, I noticed how he closed his eyes afterwards, turning over and reclining back again. He pushed his sunglasses back onto the bridge of his nose and gave a sigh, sounding very satisfied for some reason.

"Harley," I began quietly, "when was the last Contest you entered?"

It took a moment for Harley to respond. But, he answered, "Hmm, maybe two months ago? I was in Slateport City for a while, and I entered just because."

I remembered Slateport was where Harley was from, so I knew he was visiting his home when he entered that Contest. "I can guess the outcome of that Contest," I shrugged.

Harley crossed his arms as he lay there reclined. He grunted, not liking what I said. "Well, yes, and that's when I realized I needed a vacation."

"If you lost, I think it meant you needed to train," I corrected.

Harley became angrier. "_No,_" he declared. "It meant I needed a vacation."

"Oh, okay," I concluded sarcastically. "But, you know, when people have losing streaks it doesn't mean they're tired and need a rest; it means they should work harder."

Harley tore off his sunglasses and glared at me. "I think it's time you stop talking, Max."

I narrowed my eyes, the use of my name sort of intimidating. Honestly, what would he have done if I kept going on like this? He probably would've killed me, yes, but I wondered how violently. This actually made me laugh slightly, and when I looked back up, Harley bit his bottom lip, hard.

I decided to switch the subject of losing back onto myself by saying, "I'm sort of worried about my next Gym Battle." Normally, I wouldn't just admit something like that, but I wanted to keep the conversation going.

"You'll do fine," Harley grunted, obviously just saying it without any real consideration.

I took notice of Kirlia's continual, non-stopping swimming. "So, what happened to your Ariados and Banette?" I asked.

Harley gave a distant smile. "Oh, they're back in Slateport, staying with a friend."

"A friend?" I echoed. It was odd, because I automatically assumed this friend was male and possibly more than just a friend. And, I had to admit, that bothered me for some reason. I wasn't sure if it was on the level of comfort or because it was just weird.

"Yes, she takes care of Pokémon," he further explained.

_She. _So, it wasn't another man. "Before I was a trainer, I befriended a Shuppet," I told him. "I always wanted one because of that, but never came across one. Where'd you capture yours?"

The man shrugged. "Somewhere around a mountain of the sorts," he told me. "You know, I've caught quite a few more Pokémon while I traveled in Johto the first time. Maybe one day I'll tell you about them."

"One day?" I scoffed, knowing that was an excuse so he never would tell me. And, yet, I would've been interested. But, I went on and said, "I bet your Banette was just as creepy when it was a Shuppet and nothing like the one I met." I wiped some of the wetness from my forehead with my arm, continuing to have the towel wrapped around my upper body.

"My Banette is _not _creepy!" he shouted. "And, neither is my Cacturne," he finished.

Startled by his yell, I just shrugged and said, "I never said anything about your Cacturne."

"Your sister did," he growled.

"For hating her so much, you sure remember a lot about her."

Harley readjusted himself on the lawn chair, obviously fidgeting as his anger got the best of him. "That's what happens when people scar you for life with their excessive cruelness."

"You're one to talk," I muttered.

"I was never _cruel,_" he argued. "I was just righting what was wrong when your sister did some pretty lousy things to me."

I sighed. Harley really did think May had started their rivalry. He believed his superiority, his position on things, and even his own lies. It was crazy. I wanted to tell him there was no reason to hold a grudge on someone he didn't even communicate with anymore, but it wouldn't have made a difference. I still thought that perhaps he might've been interested in knowing where May was, but I wasn't going to tell him.

After a long amount of silence, my Kirlia came out of the pool and shook herself off. She walked back over to me, giving a very tired look. I smiled and asked, "Do you want to go back into your Pokéball?" I smiled more and grabbed the ball to return her. I minimized it, placing it next to me. "You should've brought your Pokémon out here," I told Harley.

"They're fine," he insisted.

"I heard Nurse Joy tell you to let them out more often," I admitted.

"You did, did you?" he grumbled.

"Maybe you should listen to her advice."

"Maybe," he said, putting his arms behind his head to relax.

"I hope you realize that keeping them locked up in their Pokéballs all the time isn't going to benefit you when you decide to go back to entering Contests," I lectured. Then, "I also thought you said when I beat you the other day that it was a wake-up call to start training again."

Harley gave a loud huff. "I truly believe it's time for you to stop talking, 'kay, Maximus?"

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever." I reclined on the chair like Harley, wanting now to just enjoy the weather. After I was done readjusting my position, I closed my eyes, making sure my towel was safely wrapped around my chest so I wouldn't feel so self-conscious.

Even with my eyes closed, I felt Harley return to look at me. I don't know if it was because I felt him possibly move or if because I was just nervous, but I was certain he was looking at me. I opened my eyes, turning my head, and sure enough, he was. His head was turned in my direction, and the precise angle had the sun gleaming onto his sunglasses, allowing me to see his eyes.

I desperately wanted to ask him what the heck he was looking at me for, but instead I just continued to stare back at him. He didn't say anything either. The man just pushed in his lips, seeming determined to concentrate on staring at me.

"I think I'm ready to go back to the room," he announced, his eyes still glued on me.

"O-Okay," I stuttered. "That's fine with me."

Harley stood up, stretching on the way. I stood up as well, making sure I had Kirlia's Pokéball with me. When Harley walked past me, he grabbed my towel forcefully, taking it in his hands and dabbing his forehead with it. Startled, I had little time to do anything but just stare at him, dumbfounded. When he was done, he dropped it on my head.

"That was polite," I spewed, putting the towel back around my shoulders.

"You shouldn't wear that towel like you do your fucking poncho," he complained, walking back towards the side stairwell of the hotel.

I followed again, having to jog to keep up with him. Why did he have such long legs? Why was he so tall in the first place anyway? I sighed, wondering, as we walked back to his room, why I was still hanging around this guy. I mean, just because he wasn't as annoying and creepy as I thought he would be—(well, he definitely was those things on _some_ level)—there was no reason I needed to spend time with him. What also confused me is that my presence didn't seem to bother Harley. I would even safely assume he wanted me to stick around, just so he could have some company. Maybe he did this all the time: took in people he met and then went separate ways from them after a while.

Once we finished walking up all those flights of stairs, we made it back to the eighth level, and eventually, back to his hotel room. The breakfast tray in the hall was gone, but the room itself hadn't been cleaned yet. Harley's pathetic attempt at making the bed was still evident.

Harley walked over to the balcony window and slid open the blinds completely. The bright sun shined through the glass and into half of the room but blocked off in the living room area because of the wall pillar. Harley also opened the balcony door a little, letting in some air.

Still dripping wet from the pool, I walked slowly over to the couch and replaced Kirlia's Pokéball into my backpack. I adjusted the towel on my shoulders and ended up pulling it over my head to scrub my hair dry. When I removed the towel from blocking my view, Harley was around the corner of the sofa, his bathrobe still on and his sunglasses now on the top of his head.

I picked up the times table that was still on the coffee table and examined the times again. "The last train leaves at three, Harley," I reminded him.

"It's 11:23," Harley replied. "We have loads of time to kill." He smiled in my direction.

Having spent almost an hour at the pool, I realized a lot time really hadn't past in the long-run. He was right: there was still so much time left before the train actually left. "So, um, is it okay if I take a shower?"

Harley removed his sunglasses perched on his head and threw them down onto the coffee table. "I don't see why not. I wouldn't want you stinking of chlorine all day."

I placed down the times table, along with my glasses, but did not respond to his half-rude/half-joking comment. I began digging out my extra pairs of clothes so I could change after my shower, but I felt Harley hovering over me as I did so. I looked to see what he was doing, but as I did so, he just plopped down onto the couch and rested his feet on the table.

My clothes gathered up in my arms, I wondered how I was supposed to get around Harley as he sat there reclined. I looked at him, trying to get my message through, but he widened his eyes and smiled, grabbing my wrist and pulling me down to sit on the couch with him.

"You don't need to do that now, though!" he exclaimed, pushing the clothing out of my arms.

"I'm still soaked!" I argued, sitting up from the couch. "I don't want to get your couch all wet."

"It's not _my _couch, Maximus," he went on, patting the empty space next to him. "Let's watch TV."

I frowned and placed the towel over the cushion before I sat down. Even if it _wasn't _his couch, it was rude to just allow chlorine to soak into nice material. As I sat on the couch, though, I felt very uncomfortable. I was starting to dry off from the air, making my skin feel sticky and dirty. I was also getting cold, and I wished I wasn't still in my swimming trunks.

"Are you going to stay in another lousy Pokémon Center in Ecruteak City?" Harley wondered, titling his head.

"Well, yeah, not everyone wants to waste money on a hotel like you," I defended myself. "How do you even _have _money anyway?"

"There are some ups to when your parents die," he told me.

I frowned, not even knowing where to begin with that. I wouldn't know what to do if either of my parents died. Money wouldn't even cross my mind.

Harley then shrugged off his statement, and for a second, he leaned forward, aiming for his box of cigarettes. He then decided against it for whatever reason and looked over at me. His eyes went to my legs where my goose bumps were most obvious.

"Cold?" he wondered.

"Yeah," I said. "That's another reason I'd like to go take a shower."

"I'm nice and warm," he informed me, placing a hand right above my knee. His hand _was_ warm, especially on my cold, damp skin.

His hand was also very soft and feeling so sticky and moist made me embarrassed to have him touching me. In fact, his touch sent another sweep of goose bumps up and down my body. This didn't bother him. He kept his hand there, even beginning to move his thumb very slowly on my kneecap. I shivered again, tightening up my body to try and regain some warmth.

"I should probably take a shower now," I said dully. I continued to sit there, though, looking at Harley as if I wanted his permission to get up. I guess I would've, though, since his legs were still blocking the space between the sofa and the coffee table.

The man grinned, using my leg to pull himself closer to me. This movement instantly made me sink deeper into the back of the sofa, my moist back sticking against the fabric. His expression turned very odd, a crooked sort of smirk that made me, for basically the first time, feel _completely_ dumbfounded and stupid. I thought I knew what that type of stare meant, but why on earth would Harley ever look at me that way? It was different than his creepy grin when he was up to no good; now it was sly haze of delirium that scared me.

"Max," he began, and I swear I could feel his breath just fan onto me from the distance between us. "I really quite like you." He smirked, inching himself closer and closer until I felt his chest hit my shoulder.

I sunk even deeper into the couch, moving my hands in front of my chest to push him away. It hardly did anything, so I grabbed his upper-arms, attempting to still him. He stopped this time, continuing to look at me weirdly. I had no idea what to say. I could feel the heat from Harley's body, but it was far too odd to be comforting.

My mind shot back to our time at the restaurant when he kept giving me funny looks. At that time, I could've sworn he was judging me, but then he continued to give those looks when we were eating yesterday and when I swam this afternoon. Now I realized, well, actually, I _don't know… _I felt trapped between what I was tempted to believe and what I knew about him as a person. If he was actually considering _that _I was certain this was the pinnacle of trying to get back at May. Was he capable of that? Or, was he just teasing me right now, trying to mess with my head like I always thought he was?

I tightened my grip on his upper-arms when he moved himself near. I was too lost in my thoughts—my confusing, but very revealing thoughts—about Harley to put more effort into my small fight. He was going to do something, and I was so scared that I closed my eyes just as I felt his body lean over mine. Then his breath hit my face, and this made me open my eyes. I swear I thought my heart was going to explode because he pressed his lips onto mine, and I became terrified. Absolutely terrified.

The dry and rough sensation made me positive his mouth should not be on mine. I turned my face away, causing his lips to slide sideways on my face, dragging across my cheek. He backed away a bit and looked down at me, his messy hair falling from his shoulders. I shut my eyes again, avoiding his look as I struggled with my inability to say anything at all.

"Max," he called out, running his left hand through my wet, clamped-together bangs.

He readjusted himself, basically sitting on my lap with his legs on either side of me. He gave the weirdest expression. He looked so drained, but so needy. This sight made me tremble with panic.

Putting his hands on my shoulders, he pinned me back onto the pillow cushion as he hovered over me. Having lost my grip on his upper-arms, the man moved his hand down to prevent one of my arms from pushing him away again. At this point, I started to squirm. Not backing down, he then pressed his lips against mine. This time, the kiss was not motionless. I wasn't sure if he expected me to respond in some way. I surely didn't want to. I wanted him off me. But, I was too scared of what he would do if I fought.

I gasped to end the suffocating claim, but his persistence made me gag and he used the opportunity of my open mouth to slide in his tongue. Wet and hot, I was horrified by how much it felt like my own. I stayed still, but he forced our tongues to tangle together, making my entire mouth feel _stuffed. _I choked a bit, disliking the slick feeling.

I groaned in sudden fear, trying to stop him from doing anything further. His lingering weight over my lap finally rested down, making my lower body trapped. I felt something hard against my thigh, and I hated that I knew what Harley wanted. I gargled another fearful huff, and he finally parted our mouths to look at me. My face was beet red, but he didn't seem to care. He smiled at me, looking suspicious.

I wasn't sure what to do. We just kept looking at each other.

So, I narrowed my eyes, ashamed and paralyzed. I wanted to say something, but _what_? I really wished, for once, _Harley_ would say something, too. Instead, he was rubbing my arm, his palm running up and down.

"W-Why…" I stuttered, so unsure of myself. "Why did you do that…?"

This made Harley grin widely. "Because I like you, Max."

I blushed. I was on-guard this entire time of Harley pulling something, but I never expected Harley pulling something like _this. _I felt so stupid for hanging around him in the first place! He was _never _up to anything normal, and now he was trying to pull me into something by saying he "liked me." I wanted to ask _why_ he liked me, but I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer. At least now I knew why he was staring at me the entire time I was swimming. Now I knew why he was so insistent on letting me stay the night. God, a million other things I questioned were starting to make mild sense now.

I had never been in a situation like this before. Even though I had met hundreds of people on my journey, not once did a single person ever express this kind of interest. I couldn't help but feel special momentarily, until I realized once more that this was _Harley. _He wanted me to feel that way, I'm sure. He was just too likely of falling under the category of child molester, the more I thought about it. Why would he just up and decide he liked me when he never showed a single bit of interest before? Or, wait, had he? I just got finished thinking all those times he looked at me were explanations of his current revelation, but… I just didn't even think it was possible for Harley to feel that way. I was so confused that now I couldn't even think straight. All I knew was that when we first met, he certainly never acted out this way. I knew what it was like to be manipulated by him, and I never wanted that to happen again.

That memory surged some anger in me. He hadn't just messed with May all those years ago, he had done the same to me. Back then, I had been more concerned with May, but now, at this very moment between Harley with me, I became more aware he wasn't above still playing schemes.

"This is my own fault for hanging around you," I told him, shifting my eyes away from his.

"Perhaps," he mused wistfully. He pressed his upper-half against my chest. "And, it also may very well be your fault for being so—oh, how should I put this?—hmm, _tempting._"

Tempting?

But, I had no time to examine that because it was happening all over again: his mouth, his hands, his determination. The tip of Harley's tongue pressed through my lips, parting them even as I tried to keep them together. His body moved against mine, his hips grating against my stomach as he readied himself for his next move. He slid his hand down my bare chest and tugged the left end of my swimsuit.

Beneath him, I still tried to move my face away from his. But, while one hand slipped underneath the material of my swimsuit, the other held my face in position, forcing our mouths to stay fused. When he released the hand holding my face still, he used it to untie his fluffy, white bathrobe. I tried not to look, but my earlier curiosity of what he was wearing underneath got the best of me. And, he had on nothing. Nothing. And, just a glimpse of his bare body was enough to make me look up to the shadow-decorated ceiling, avoiding him completely.

But, Harley grabbed my chin, forcing my gaze downward as he wrapped his other hand around the top of my bathing suit and slipped into them. Harley's body was unlike anything I had seen before. He was older than most people I had met, and his body showed it. He was a collection of defined shapes in his shoulders, arms, legs, and hips, and I knew my small, bony stature was the polar opposite of his. Whatever my body looked like, he didn't seem to care. He had his hand inside my swim shorts, feeling around below my abdomen before I felt his fingers linger more and more down.

I swallowed hard. Not wanting to give up on making this whole mess stop, I grabbed his wrist, preventing him from touching me any further. "_Stop_, Harley," I said forcefully.

Harley's expression melted into a grin. "Relax," he coaxed, brushing away some of the hair in my face. "You'll enjoy this, I promise."

His words shocked me. "No!" I went on. "I don't want to do this!"

Harley smacked his lips together to make that dismissal sound. He then slammed himself against me, pressing our bodies together forcefully and trapping me beneath him. He reached fully into my shorts and wrapped his hand around my limp thing, urging a reaction out of me as he dragged my shorts down my legs.

"H-Harley!" I exclaimed, shrugging my shoulders upward to try and push him off. "Stop!"

"Shh," he said. "_Relax._"

I became paralyzed once again, surprised by how sudden it was happening. His hand wrapped around my length, stroking it carefully with his soft, but slightly callused, fingers. His body was tightly pressed onto mine. I felt his thing, hard and larger than my own, against my inner thigh. He was not attending to himself, but I felt his growing need as he rubbed himself over my leg.

His enclosed hand around my length steered in circular motions, making me shudder as he allowed it to grow hard. I bit my lip, completely unsure how I was supposed to react to someone touching me like this. I laid my head onto the back of the couch, my wet hair sticking to the sides of my face and making me itch. I watched the shadows from various objects sway on the walls, created by a mixture of dark and bright lighting throughout the room.

My hips unintentionally rose off the sofa, pressing into his touch. I tried to correct this by sinking myself back into the couch, but Harley had noticed. He smiled at me, his face coming forward to mine as he trapped our mouths together. Oddly angled, our groins ended up touching, and Harley moaned into my mouth, thrusting our bodies closer and closer until I felt like his weight was going to kill me.

When I became completely hard, much to my dismay, he slid himself down my body just a bit. His mouth connected with my chin, teeth grazing my skin gently, before he fell on his knees in front of the sofa, his weight off me.

Feeling relieved, I sat up and attempted to squirm away from him. But, he placed his hands on my thighs, pressing me down to halt my movements. I looked down at him on his knees, and he looked back up at me, still retaining that grin of his. I watched as he licked his lips, inching toward my length. I closed my eyes tightly, preparing myself as if I were going to be struck. With his right hand bringing my length down to his mouth, he enveloped it, his warm saliva causing a staggering response of shivers in my body.

I let out a silent gasp, but I felt like it could be heard everywhere in the room. This wasn't that complicated to get away from, so why did I only make small attempts to get away? If I wanted to, I could've shoved him away, maybe actually _hurt _him. But, all my hesitation was gentle and it made me seem like I needed his assurance to "relax." And, now—with his hands guiding up and down my thighs, pushing them further apart as he lapped around my thing with his tongue—I started to believe I didn't want to get away.

Harley was moving his lips over the tip of my length, taking it in inch by inch before the entire thing disappeared into the circle of his mouth. I quivered, making small noises of pleasure and humiliation. Pushing my thing into his mouth, the inner, velvety side of his lips provided me with delight while the front of his lips grazed me with a rough and wet sensation. My legs started to squirm, pushing forward for more even though my mind was begging me to pull away.

At the first notice of my slight pull, Harley's strong hands immediately pressed onto my hips and held me down. He angled himself better, right above me, as he took in my entire length again and it disappeared from my sight and into his dark, hot mouth. I gasped louder this time, feeling his teeth then his throat. He made his mouth enclose around me, the warmth of his tongue still gliding over repeatedly. I could feel the very back of his throat, but he pulled away, beginning from the tip of my length and starting the in and out pattern over.

The man hollowed his cheeks and leaned his head and chest up, revealing the lower half of himself. I noticed his hand between his thighs. Though his bathrobe was still on, it was untied and exposing his hand laid out in an open palm as he rubbed himself against it. His backward and forward motions on my thing were the result of the friction he forced on himself.

And, I watched, fascinated. His eyes were closed, managing to concentrate on both himself and what he was doing to me. His face so close to my entire lower self, I felt the intense heat escape through his nostrils, sometimes hitting my length when he was sliding his mouth up. In the back of his throat, he somehow directed it to expand forward, feeling far more warm and velvety than the rest of his mouth.

I arched my back off the couch, hating myself for urging his touches. His free hand pressed me back onto the couch, half of him being on guard for my fight. But, as my muscles tightened and I clenched my fists, I needed something to grab onto. I reached for the sides of the couch, but, too far away, I stretched my hands forward, gripping onto Harley's shoulders until I felt my release, not even thinking as I came inside the man's mouth.

Harley's fingernails dug into my thigh, still using his other hand on himself. Only for a moment did I feel my release swish inside his mouth before I saw his throat quickly lump as he swallowed. Yet, he continued to keep his mouth around me, tongue massaging through the tremors of my completion. Then, finally, his fingernails entrenched further into my skin, and I felt his throat vibrate a moan as he, too, came, but into his own hand.

Harley lolled his head back, sliding off my length as he relaxed his weight onto his knees. I sat there, panting, my skin no longer feeling wet from the pool water, but wet from sweat. Harley's forehead gleamed with moisture, too, but the rest of his body seemed fine. His hand, completely dampened from his climax, reached for the towel beneath my body. He wiped his hand off, but kept the towel there.

I closed my eyes, pulling in my stomach as I inhaled with a confusing guilt. I had let Harley do this all. And, worst of all, I had humiliated myself by reacting to his touches and finally letting myself come into his mouth. This was absolutely wrong, and I knew it. These sort of things weren't supposed to happen to kids my age. Was it even normal to have reacted the way I did? Above all things, I hadn't even begun to analyze the fact I had enjoyed this from a _man._ I just wanted to dissipate, never having to face Harley or anyone else again.

After Harley caught his breath, he sat up, retying the robe and covering his grown and developed body. I closed my eyes, trying to block the images of his taut, erected self, but nevertheless, I blushed at the brief memory. My eyes closed, I felt Harley hover his weight over me again, not completely setting it all down. His hand brushed the side of my cheeks.

I broke the silence. "Don't," I ordered, flinching away from his touch.

Harley didn't listen. He cupped his hand around my cheek, leaning over and kissing me demandingly. I threw his hand off my face, tightening the grip on his wrist even as he continued to press our mouths together. I could taste my own release, even more when he slipped his tongue inside my mouth. He broke away when I groaned with objection, rubbing his free hand over my chin.

"What's wrong?" he wondered, raising an eyebrow.

As if he had to ask! I glared at him then frowned and looked away. His fingers, still massaging my chin, began slinking up, pressing between my lips. I was just about to bite down—demanding his intrusion to end at that moment—but then I tasted something on his hand. It was some combination of tangy iron, tobacco, and… _his own_ release. I realized this was the hand he used on himself. Having just tasted myself seconds ago, I felt a sudden connection between us, but I let it pass, not wanting to think of Harley in any other way than negatively.

**End of Part Two**

**¹ Footnote: **After the voice actor change in 2006, I completely stopped watching the English dub of the show. Although I have knowledge of Hikari's English name, it's completely second-nature to me, and thus, I do not feel compelled to use it. I am, however, familiar with the English names of the fourth generation Pokémon (because of the games), so referring to them is less complicated. I know it seems silly (especially since Hikari's name only comes up a few times in the story), but this is just the way I feel, and for those who do not know my full involvement with the situation, I ask that you simply respect this decision.


	3. Part Three

**Part Three**

_-Harley-_

I eyed Max intensely, much like I had been doing all day. His face was flushed with a red glow, and his brow was shining with beads of sweat. As odd as his refusal to answer my question was, it gave me time to examine his still-naked body and enjoy the taste of his seed in my mouth. And, _Christ, _was it the best taste in the world. This whole thing ranked pretty high in my life achievements.

I mean, fuck, I had done it! I had shot away all my self-control and managed to get the ultimate satisfaction from doing so. I got what I wanted and allowed precious Maximus to benefit from it, too. And, he was lucky I didn't just push him face-first into the couch and fully screw him. The way he pranced around in that goddamn bathing suit, expecting me to just accept it and not go crazy with wild desire and greed. Oh, he was an impish little cock-tease, that was for sure. It was not normal for a kid his age to be so goddamn alluring like that, so he really would have no reason to feel violated had I allowed myself to go through with shagging him.

So, why didn't I? Well, I had to admit, I really had no desire to just _rape _the kid (though, I still stand by my statement he would've deserved it). If I wanted this to be consensual, no matter how loosely, I wouldn't have gotten anything at all had I taken it a step further. Max was young, and I knew he wouldn't be incredibly open to _that_ right off the bat. Yes, he might have been very unsure of what had just happened—and quite obviously blaming himself—but I knew from my own first experience that if he wanted me off him, he would've fought harder. And, he didn't.

_My _first time had been remarkably similar to this: older man, uncertainty, silence. I had struggled at first, not wanting someone to dominate me when I was apprehensive and vulnerable. Max was a lot smarter than I was at that age, and I figured he had a better grip on what he wanted. Regardless, a small bit of worry developed for the boy, thinking he might be ready to jump off the balcony.

"Say something," I insisted, stroking his face. I then pressed my face into his collarbone, smelling chlorine and sweat. His grasp around my wrist had loosened and now it simply felt like he was attempting to touch my palm.

He still wouldn't say anything. I was even more disappointed by how stiff his shoulders became at my touch. My touch should've provoked other parts of him to grow stiff, goddammit.

I sighed, reclining back to my side of the couch and getting off him. On the way, I grabbed my lighter and cigarettes from the coffee table. Lighting up a stick, I inhaled with an unhealthy amount of strength and then sat next to Max, just the way we had been before everything happened.

I wondered if I should've put his shorts back on his thin, but youthfully defined, legs. He looked a whole lot better sitting there nude with his chest rising and falling as he breathed. His limp little cock, which had graciously been in my mouth minutes earlier, now rested against his thighs, and his arms hung at his sides tiredly.

Since Max was not saying a single word, I stretched out my arm and caressed his cheek again. I truly hoped he didn't think I had just stolen his virginity, that I had raped him and was set on further destroying his life. Honestly, he had no reason to think such things! _He _had been prancing about in that swimsuit, and furthermore, he was the one who got more out of the whole event than I did. He had the pleasure of me sucking his cock while I just clumsily jerked off. Oh, no, _he _was the one who benefited more.

I breathed in some more smoke, letting it linger in my mouth before I stylishly blew it out. I absolutely adored the taste of tobacco combined with Max's seed.

Just then, Max stuttered out something incomprehensible. I looked over at him, and he bit his bottom lip as he said, "I… I think I should… take a shower now."

Hmm, yes, our rendezvous had prolonged his little shower. I actually stifled a laugh, thinking back to this morning when _I _had taken shower. I woke up long before Max did, and while he slept on the couch—his arms spread out over his head and his hip twisted halfway around—I had watched him. His mouth had twitched back and forth as if he were trying to hide a smile from someone. I had hoped he was dreaming of me, and that thought excited me immensely. As I had stripped my clothing in the bathroom, the knowledge of him in the other room drove me mad. I ended up jacking off in the shower, my release spattering onto the tile wall just as I envisioned the boy lying on the couch with his goddamn messy hair and disheveled clothing.

"Well, then," I began, motioning towards the bathroom with my cigarette, "I don't see what's holding you up."

Max's eyes narrowed as he moved. He seemed to realize he was still naked, and he used the towel beneath him to cover himself before getting up and grabbing the extra clothes that had fallen on the floor earlier. I hope he remembered my semen had been wiped off on that towel, though. I grinned, watching him walk past me, his leg brushing against mine very quickly.

The door closed with a click of the lock, and then subsequently, the sound of the light coming to life emitted. He locked the door! As if I were going to storm in there and attack him! That bothered me. Was Max really afraid of what I was going to do when he least expected it?

Well, screw that. He allowed me to do what I did. If he wanted me to stop, he could've kneed me in the groin and run out the door. Instead, he had leaned his head backwards and moaned like a common whore. So, if he really wanted to keep his distance, I hope he realized that he was just as guilty as I. Maybe even more.

Ah, now, I was starting to sound like a criminal pedophile. I mean, sure, Max's age had crossed my mind a million and one times. And, yes, as much as I found that lithe, little tart of a body enjoyable and attractive, I surely wasn't lusting after boys _his age_ on an everyday basis. Max was the greatest exception to everything at the moment. I was utterly frustrated by how he paraded around looking like he did, so it wasn't like _I _didn't have to deal with my own issues.

Grunting, I rose from the sofa, heading over to the open balcony. There was a nice breeze, cool and easy against my skin. The smoke from my cigarette blew around violently, my hair also getting in my face. Even now I could still taste Max's seed in my mouth. Its savory, sweet kick had stung against my tongue at first contact. I swear I was growing hard just thinking about it now. It happened less than fifteen minutes ago, and I was being greedy enough to want more.

Oh, I desperately _needed _to see that amazing reaction on Max's face, see him crane his neck and bite down as he suppressed a gasp of air. I shut my eyes, picturing this once more. The sweat dampening his forehead was embedded into his brow; his mouth was clamped shut but there was no hiding how his breathing was uneven and harsh; his thighs had writhed momentarily before he realized he was allowing himself to react. I could only _imagine _if he didn't still himself! I could easily sense it wasn't in him to just lie there as I did all the work. Oh, no, I saw that hidden layer in him, the one that would push himself up as I moved down, the one that would spread his legs further to gain more contact with me. He was a randy little bugger; he just needed help realizing it.

God, even Norman couldn't compare to how delicious Max looked as he came. But, surprisingly, the thought of that man stirred nothing inside of me. Being such a huge fan of Norman, I should've prided myself endlessly in seducing his son. It was May, however, that sweetened the deal. My loathing of her was resurfacing, remembering just how much she ticked me off. Imagine if she knew what Max and I just did, just fucking imagine. She would _die. _Oh, and she would never admit that Max was the tart that he was either! Instead, she'd blame it all on scary, predatory _moi_. If she only knew the truth about her brother; if only she saw him through my eyes, the eyes that could sense every seductively impish trait in that boy, knowing him fully as the true definition of a faunlet.

Smiling, I discarded my cigarette over the balcony ledge then closed the sliding glass door. It was almost one o'clock and certainly the time was flying by now that I had gained the privilege of—how should I put this?—_half-ravishing_ Maximus.

It was time to change back into my regular clothes. I untied my robe, shrugging it off and then quickly getting into my green attire. I then remembered that I needed to call downstairs and tell the lobby I would be leaving soon. Of course, they would be pissed since my checkout time was _tomorrow _morning. But, the city was bustling with people out to seek a vacation and hotel, so I knew they wouldn't charge me.

Proving quick and painless, I was done with the call in less than five minutes. As I hung up, I noticed the shower water stopped running. I smiled at the thought of Max getting changed in there, all careful and cute. This made me laugh, but I busied myself from further thoughts by collecting some of my scattered belongings around the room. I stuffed my hat in my bag, not wanting to wear it in the heat. I also stuffed a sock I found, hidden in the bed sheets, back into my bag.

When I picked up Max's backpack off the floor, I was surprised by the weight of the small thing. I opened it, peeking inside, first seeing his Pokéballs and PokéNav. But, dear Lord, underneath all those things, I caught sight of a light blue pair of undies! I didn't even try to restrain myself from digging into the bag and grabbing the garment.

The biggest smile formed on my face, knowing they were, without a doubt, skintight and much more of a fit than his semi-loose swimming shorts. I ran my fingers over the crotch area, imagining the garment tightly pressed against him and showing off an excellent lining of curves and forms.

Rustling from the bathroom caused me to replace the underwear and close the backpack. I grabbed my lighter, cigarettes and sunglasses from the table, putting them in their proper places, most importantly my sunnies on my head. Just as I finished, I heard the door open. I turned to greet Max with a broad smile.

He stood in the doorway for a long moment, looking lost and cautious. His hair was still damp, but he had done a good job drying it. Although still wearing his tan shorts, he now had on a long-sleeved hoodie, which was green with a small white line design on the left side. Still without his glasses, he looked pathetically needy.

"Here you are," I said, taking his glasses from the table and reaching out to give them to him.

He was hesitant, but like the little gentleman he was, he politely walked towards me and took them. Before putting them on, he thanked me with a mutter.

"We should get going," I announced, walking by him and getting my bag on the bed.

Max's head drooped, eyeing his socks. I had a feeling he really wanted to say something about what happened, but was actually waiting for _me_ to breach the subject first. I would have been impressed if he took it upon himself to approach the subject. It would've showed a vast amount of courage on his part. But, of course, _I wasn't _going to say a word. Just to frustrate him.

Finally, Max moved, taking his backpack and putting it on.

Since he wasn't saying anything, I said, "You still want to go… right?"

Max looked up, furrowing his brow in a slight glare. "Of course," he answered. Then, "I can pay for my own ticket."

I scoffed, but smiled anyhow. "Aww, well, that's good to know," I told him, really only saying it to aggravate him.

The boy exhaled as he put on his shoes.

"Let's go," I said, scanning the room for any forgotten items. There was nothing, so I opened the door to leave with Max following slowly behind.

Downstairs, at the lobby, I checked out and they gave me a chocolate and discount card out of some lame complimentary gesture. I simply stuffed the card into my pocket as we left the building, knowing in the back of my mind, I would _never _be back in this city or hotel ever again.

Outside, underneath the awning, I prepared myself for the bright sun by slipping my sunnies onto the bridge of my nose. Still holding the chocolate I asked, "Do you want this?" I waved the small bar in the air with little effort.

Max looked up at me and shrugged. "No thanks."

I stuffed it into his chest anyway. He was taken aback by this, losing his balance a little as he reached up to take it, preventing it from falling. For only a second, our hands pressed together, and he turned _instantly _red. I knew this was good sign. Surely a boy who just felt like he had been molested wouldn't blush like a prom queen at the first sign of physical contact.

I felt like I needed to let him know there was no reason to clam up and stay silent for the rest of the day. I brushed his hair back behind his ear, stroking his cheek for a moment. This made his eyes widen, but unlike I feared, his body did not become stiff. I gave him my most sincere smile, trying to appear as non-predatory as I could.

And, you know, maybe I was slightly crazy, but I swore I saw his lips twitch, preventing a small smile from forming. No, I was _certain_ I did see this, because Max immediately started walking afterwards, heading towards the train station. He was desperate to avoid my gaze, and I knew he was even more desperate to busy himself away from thoughts about dear _moi_.

It might have been possessive, but I was glad to be running through his head. It meant I had an impact on him, an undeniable impact, which he could never forget, even if I never had the chance to thoroughly fuck the boy.

Actually, now that I thought about it, I realized that if we were really going to go to different towns, I would completely lose my _chance _to thoroughly fuck him. I had been preparing to leave all day, but it only just dawned on me that we were supposed to be going separate ways. This was very disheartening. I couldn't believe how it bypassed my mind!

Thinking about him being alone all over again was sort of depressing. I had always traveled alone because I wanted it to be that way; however, I had a feeling young Maximus here never had any intention of traveling alone. He wanted to be with his sister. That obviously never happened, and continued to be a contributing factor to the new grudge he was holding against her.

"In Ecruteak," I began, turning my head to get a glimpse of him as we walked, "are you just going to earn your badge and scram? Or, do you intend to stay and visit any places?"

"I don't think Ecruteak actually has much. Except the Tin Tower."

"Oh, yes!" I exclaimed. "I've never been, but I've heard things." That was a lie, though. I _had _been there before, and even caught a Natu around there, who was also back at home with the rest of my Pokémon.

There was a short silence. I could tell Max wanted to keep conversation to a minimal, but the way his mouth was positioned, he definitely wanted to continue _this_ discussion. And, this is why he finally said to me:

"I've heard Magmar show up there sometimes."

That sounded like something he _read _rather than heard. I mean, after all, who the hell could Max talk to about that kind of stuff anymore? I guessed his little travel book probably had information about Pokémon, too, especially when Pokémon had to do with popular places, like the Tin Tower. I remember how he offered to show me the book, as if it was the most amazing thing in the world.

"I'm sure that guidebook of yours would know," I hinted, grinning at him.

Max was quick to react to my statement. He fished out his book from his backpack, somehow not even managing to take the thing off his shoulders. He opened the book and began flipping through the pages. When he found the right page, he said, "Yes, it does! And, Magmar _are _there."

I smiled. Oh, even as cutely seductive as this boy was, he was such an apparent nerd. But, it didn't take away from his charm. In fact, goodness, did it _add _to it all. Those glasses of his made his entire face bright and innocent. That passion he spoke with on such meaningless jibble made him downright precious.

It was like some sick and deluded chain-reaction, because every time I _looked _at Maximus, a stir rose from me. And, now, like a madman, I had to kill the desire to just push him against a building and take him _then _and _now_. The slightest thing set me off into a wave of lust. This kind of desire sweeping over me had happened before, but it usually died out once I was granted the unbelievable gift of fucking my obsession.

_Ahh_, it drove me wild. I could see it all in my head, but playing out in reality would be far more satisfactory.

"That's excellent," I replied. "I hope you have good luck there."

When I said this, Max's whole mood seemed to alter. Even his shoulders loosened and his lips became an unreadable line. I was proud to have intentionally provoked this, hinting at leaving, especially since Max seemed just as surprised by the realization. I was open to the option of, well, _escorting _Max to Ecruteak, but there wasn't anything in that city worth more of my time.

With a newfound silence upon us, we just kept walking. Ahead of us, there was a crowd, people moving about right in front of the Game Corner. I had always noticed the certain kind of people who spent their time around casinos: the sleazy women, the faux rich men, and the social outsiders, who were just there because they had nowhere else to go. It was devastatingly pathetic. Even so early in the morning, they showed their faces shamelessly.

When we walked by them, there was a distinct rise in volume, decrease in oxygen and even the goddamn _smell. _They talked so loud as if they were all partly deaf; they took up all the air Max and I needed _to breathe_; and, their filthy stench of rotten booze and B.O. was unflattering. I personally may have been guilty for having a penchant for alcohol, but I was no lush, and thankfully, I had never submitted myself to that vulgar smell. And, I hope Max knew this, in case he ever wanted to judge me. I was not among _those _people.

With the Game Corner way behind us, we were getting closer and closer to the train station. Since it was actually a weekday there wasn't a big possibility of a crowd. This was actually for the best, I decided. We would sit together, and then Maximus would be forced to face me for about an hour. And, I'd make that hour _fun._

"Are you going to enter the Contest in Olivine?" Max asked me in a somewhat hushed tone.

"I already told you, _no,_" I groaned. He had indeed asked me before. It was possible he could've forgotten, but I was leaning towards the theory of him wanting to make idle conversation. Or, maybe he really wanted me to enter. "And, before you say, 'Oh, I thought because I beat you, you were gonna train again,' I want you to know I _will. _Just not now, mmkay?" I stopped walking as I said this, putting my hands on my hips.

Instead of getting quiet and backing down, Max threw back, "May already has _two _ribbons where she's at."

Despite the fact May was in an entirely different region, and I wasn't even entering Contests, this bothered me. I was threatened, really. What if May actually _won _the Grand Festival wherever she was and became a champion two times in a row? Oh, I did _not _like the thought of that.

"Your sister," I argued, "doesn't have me to worry about this time around."

Max scoffed loudly at this, the little shit. "I highly doubt that. She beat you in three Grand Festivals. And, then won one."

I wagged my finger at Max orderly. "I seem to remember always earning my ribbons quicker than her. _And_,I've beaten her three times anyway, so you should really do your research, _kid._"

Max didn't frown until I called him "kid." I wondered if he'd rather be called Maximus. If so, I was right onboard with his preference.

"You're so weird!" he finally yelled.

So, he decided to say it to my face, eh? I knew he was guilty of the thought time and time again, but I was impressed by his courage to say it!

"Well, darling, you're not the first one to say so." I reached down and brushed his hair behind his ear.

"Stop it," Max complained, throwing my hand off him.

I shrugged and continued to walk.

Max was most likely more confused by my sudden mood change. Just a second ago, I had called him "kid," but then I became affectionate. I had no intention of confusing the boy—he should've known how to comprehend when I was messing with him—but, perhaps he was also cautious of my touches in public. No one ever notices what's right in front of their damn eyes, especially if they don't _want _to see it. No one was going to care about me flirting with the boy, let alone _notice._

We walked in silence until reaching the train station. Inside, we separated to buy our tickets in different lines. Max probably decided to get in his own line to avoid me, and of course, because he wanted to show off how Daddykins gave him money.

Since I managed to pay and get out of line first, I sat down on the long, almost pew-like bench, crossing my legs and sighing. The big obnoxious clock above the digital schedule read 1:55. Our train would start boarding in forty-five minutes or so, though it left at three. We were here early, but I had intended this. Max couldn't avoid me here, unless he really wanted to sit alone on the train. And, that would've made everything a lot more complicated for the boy; he knew full well that I would've kept my eye on him even from a distance. It was a lot more comfortable to be stared at by a person sitting next to you than by a person sitting ten seats behind you.

I saw Max approaching me with his purchased train ticket in his hands. He also had his PokéNav out. He sat next to me, but left a large gap in between, and continued to mess around with his little nerdy device. I guessed he was mapping out Ecruteak City.

I was bored, so I took out my cigarettes and began to light one routinely. I wasn't sure you were even allowed to smoke here, but I didn't care. As I flicked my gold lighter, I smiled at the memory of Max revealing it to me last night. I still wondered _what else _he went through as I was asleep, but regardless, I was glad he found my lighter. The time we spent together had been very profitable, and I'm sure if we spent more time together, we'd both end up greatly fulfilled.

Well, I knew what _I_ wanted that'd leave me fulfilled. I couldn't say for certain Max wanted the same thing, but his lack of a fight, and his refusal to just book it and run away from me, were evidence he was curious about what I had to offer him.

Max had no idea what to do earlier. He just sat there, allowing me to suck his cock and regretting each thrust of his body that revealed enjoyment. Surely that meant he had no clue about further activities. It would've frightened him, really. But, he needed to first experience the joys of having me _inside him_ before he judged it. _I _needed to experience the joys of being inside him, too. That virginal little ass of his was mine to claim, I decided quickly.

Oh, even the words in my head enticed me. Tight. Hot. _Untouched_. Those were all the things that Max's fuckable little ass would prove to be, I was sure of it. Sadly, the end of my cigarette suffered a hard bite as I tried to control my body from reacting from to the thoughts.

"Are you… okay…?"

I looked over at Max who was giving me a concerned look. If he only knew! Gosh, I had succeeded in not fully taking the boy this afternoon, but I needed to learn how to control my thoughts.

I was a mess. Not even wanking off could ever satisfy the _need _I developed for this boy. It was utterly surprising. I never had a single intention of lusting after _May's _younger brother. Where the hell had I been four years ago when I manipulated Maximus with the ice cream sundae? Why didn't I recognize the blooming faunlet inside that boy and caution myself to stay away?

I had always fulfilled my conquests one way or the other. And, not just in the matter of whom I wanted to shag. If I wanted to do something, I would. In Pokémon Contests, I always succeeded in my own personal way. Perhaps May, being the demon that she was, _beat me, _but I had always managed to mess with her head, and that was a fulfillment in and of itself.

With sex, I liked to choose someone challenging to seduce. That made it worth it in the end. Though, admittedly, there was no denying I was guilty of shameless one-night stands and an occasional back alley rendezvous. Max was definitely the youngest boy I had ever wanted, but overall, I did prefer my company _younger_. While a couple of boys probably lied to me about their ages in the past, I was pretty sure I never fucked anyone under fifteen. That said, it was one of the contributing factors to my difficulties controlling and handling what I felt for little Maximus, the youngest of all my lusts.

He was delectable. I had come to terms with the fact I wanted to screw his brains out, but I was in a rut on how to approach it. Maybe I sucked his cock his afternoon, but I was still unsure where the boy stood on anything else developing.

"Are you okay?"

I blinked. Then, realizing I had never answered his question before, he had repeated himself. I gave a quick nod and then took a drag of my cigarette. "I'm fine, Maximus."

Max rolled his eyes and then turned off his PokéNav. "The train will be stopping in Ecruteak first," he told me.

"Ah," I voiced, breathing out some smoke. "Well, Max, I have a very important question to ask you."

Oh, yes, I did.

The boy's expression turned worried. I even saw a slight shade of red rise into his cheeks, and I knew he was thinking back to this afternoon.

I grinned and trapped my cigarette between my fingers. "What would you say if we—oh, how should I put this?—well, decided to stick around together just a bit more?"

"Stick around?" he echoed. "You mean _here_?"

"Goldenrod? Goodness, _no._" I then clarified, "I think Ecruteak might have something I missed. Morty, actually, is someone I'd really like to meet, so would you mind if I escorted you to Ecruteak for a tinsy bit?"

"Would I mind?" Max repeated. He needed to stop doing that. "Why didn't you mention that before?"

Because it was a bloody lie I just came up with! I didn't give a damn about Morty or his stupid Gym. But, it sounded convincing enough. It did, however, mean I had to suffer through watching a fucking Gym Battle. But, this would be worth it in the end. Being in Ecruteak with Max meant I had more time to try and extend our familiarity with each other. Afterwards, I could get on with my life. And, maybe even rub it in May's face one day.

"I don't think it matters why I failed to mention it," I explained. "What does matter is that I need you to give me an answer so I know what town I'm going to end up in." Of course, that didn't really matter in the end. All I bought was a train ticket. There were no specifications on where I _had to _get off.

Max looked down. "Is there… is there another reason…?"

I was taken aback by his statement. I never expected the boy to try and lead the conversation towards our predicament, and I wondered if I wasn't careful with my next words if he would lose the courage to keep it going.

I smiled and replied, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't we already having a fantastic time together?"

Max sighed. "I guess it's sort of nice to have company, but I don't _need _you around."

Although very rude, I ended up laughing briefly. I added, "And, _I_ don't need _you_." Well, at least not in the context we were currently talking about. "But, I would like to meet Morty. Spending time with you can be a bonus." I inhaled some smoke.

Looking at me, Max furrowed his brow. "I don't believe you. I think you want something else."

I raised a single eyebrow. "Oh?" I wondered, grinning like a madman at his ability to catch onto me. "Would that bother you?"

My switch from casual conversation to rapacious implication made the boy nervous. My demeanor changed when I had asked my question and my voice, too. It was a good indication on what I wanted Max to know we were definitely talking about. The rise of color in his complexion revealed he was aware.

"I'm not—" he stopped and began tightening his grip around the thin train ticket. "I don't know."

The bench made it easy to simply slide over towards him. Our bodies hit, and I wrapped an arm around his shoulders slyly. "You understand, Max," I began, "that there's _nothing _to be ashamed of."

He bit the bottom of his lip, completely humiliated by the conversation. But, he kept going and said, "You're a man."

So, _that_ was bothering him, eh? I blinked, actually unsure what to say. I never considered his own sexuality would be Max's main issue here. Before, it had irked me he got so easily uncomfortable with the topic of sexuality, but later, I considered that perhaps one of the reasons he stuck around with a fag like me was because it just didn't phase him. I was suddenly very confused _for_ him.

With the intention of guiding him through his confusion, I asked, "My gender didn't seem to stop you from enjoying our little activity earlier, now did it?" My tone was extremely quiet, just to gain Max's certainty no one could hear us. As I waited, I sucked in some smoke and kept the cigarette in my mouth.

Max's shoulders went stiff, and he wrinkled his ticket a bit more. My arm still around him, he tried scooting away from the embrace before deciding not to bother. "Does it matter if it did?" he wondered.

"It matters a great deal, Maximus!" I shouted. Then, quietly, "If you didn't want it to happen, you would've fought."

"I did," he argued.

"Not very well!"

"You were strong."

"You could've found a way to hurt me."

"I… I thought maybe…" Max sighed again and gave up on that sentence. "I just sort of let it happen."

"That you did," I agreed. "Would you have fought if I were some pretty little lass?"

"_Yes,_" he assured me firmly. "So, that's why I don't know what to think."

"And, yet, you enjoyed it," I continued. I then waved a hand in the air to indicate some figurative scenario as I made a disgusted face. "See, _I _would never enjoy that sort of touch from a woman. And, sure, your body may react to being touched a certain way, but Max, if your little mind dodged the obviousness of my gender during the whole—"

"_I'm not,_" he interrupted. He breathed in heavily. "I'm not."

I grinned. "You sure are defensive about it."

Now, Max moved away from my touch. He was almost near the end of the bench, so he couldn't move away again unless he wanted to fall on the floor. But, he needed his space right now, and I felt it might've been best to allow it.

"That was the first time anything like that happened," he told me.

"I know." I shrugged and tapped some ashes off my cigarette. Considering how dejected and ashamed he looked, I asked, "You don't think I'm some serial rapist, do you?"

Max shut his eyes, seeming like if he did, he wouldn't be so embarrassed. "No…" he answered shakily. He looked up at me slowly. "No, I don't," he repeated, more firmly.

I was glad. I even smiled because of his answer. "That's good."

"But, _you _don't like women," he suddenly said, "and you're certain of that."

I chuckled. "By your age you should've had some realization of whether you like the lasses or not."

The boy put a hand to the back of his head, a nervous gesture. "I guess _I do_…"

I couldn't help but let out a huff. "Well, you don't _have to_ put a label on it if that's what you'd like, Max."

"But, you do," he debated. Now Max was more set on keeping the conversation going than I was.

"That's because—just as you said—I'm certain of who I like and who I don't." I was now sort of annoyed with the whole thing. I hadn't intended for the conversation to go on so damn long.

"But, Harley, you're the only… guy… I've ever…"

Ooh, he had said my name. He hadn't done that all day. Now that he had trailed off, I tried to figure out what he was going to say. I cocked my head and wondered, "Ever what?"

"I don't know," he hastily denied.

"You like me," I beamed, grinning like a fool. "Or, you at least don't _not like _me."

Max rolled his eyes. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

And, _just _when it was getting good, too. Max could be so unfair sometimes. "Fine, but I hope you know there's nothing to be ashamed of," I emphasized again. I leaned back and focused on finishing my cigarette.

Silence crept over us. Max's ticket was so wrinkled, looking like it had been through the wash. He placed it next to him, set on not messing with it anymore. But, he clenched and unclenched his fists, so very jittery and embarrassed.

I threw my dead cigarette over my head, letting it drop on the bench behind me. Max gave me a quick, disapproving look, but returned to minding his own business. My mouth was dry now, and I would've gotten something to drink had I not been so lazy. I reached into my bag, looking for something of interest. I found some gum, which I decided would pacify both my boredom and my parched mouth.

"So, Harley…"

I looked over to Max as he spoke, once again saying my name _beautifully._ "Y_eee_s?" I wondered playfully.

"Are you coming with me?"

Oh, my, we had just about let that slip our minds, going off on a tangent like that. "Your decision, Max," I told him. "I wouldn't want to intrude."

Max narrowed his eyes for a brief second. "I don't mind…" he hesitated, as if he were admitting a sin.

I let myself grin like a madman. "I'm glad, Max."

Oh, but "glad" truly didn't even begin to describe it. I wanted to fucking _sing, _knowing that I was going to be around this boy longer. My, oh my, I was ready to begin all my perverted thoughts about rubbing our bodies together as I claimed his mouth, and he threw his head back and moaned eagerly before I penetrated that taut ass of his.

Up until our train was called, Max and I just stayed silent. I was able to control my body from reacting to my mischievous and unruly thoughts. If I was able to make even half of my desires come to life, I would be a very happy man. Max might have been confused about his sexuality, but I saw no reason why he couldn't experiment to figure it out. Of course, I was positive there was an attraction to men somewhere within that boy. As worthy as I was to be a special exception, I didn't believe in those, so I couldn't be the only man he'd ever want in his lifetime.

I was thankful we were finally going to board the train, but I was starting to wonder if Max would show signs of being hesitant of me coming with him. I wasn't sure he quite understood _why _I was staying. As clear as I believe I was, Max was still so out of touch with most of my implications. It wasn't because he was stupid; he was just far too unsure of himself when it came to figuring me out (which was very insulting, really).

When I stood, I held out my hand for Max. He looked up at me, still sitting, before giving a curious look. He began moving without any regard to my hand still being held out and eventually he just stood up without taking my hand at all. I bit my bottom lip, very offended. As darling as Max was, gosh, he could be a brat.

Clearly, no one had ever smacked the kid upside the head.

Norman may have been the most handsome and elegant Gym Leader I ever saw, but it always seemed he lacked personality, and now, the same could be confirmed about his parenting techniques. It was shame, too. I saw Norman as being strict with discipline, but I guessed he never touched Max. And, every child needed to be slapped at some point! Or, spanked.

Norman spanking Max. Now _that _was an image. Perched up on his father's knee, I could imagine Max's flustered complexion on his humiliated and ashamed face. And, Norman's stern and authoritative brow creased to emphasize Max's improper behavior only added to the glory. Corrupt and very, very wrong, I was nevertheless enthralled over the idea of Father spanking Son. Especially handsome and manly Father and faunlety but virginal Son.

Having walked across the station and out to the back where the train tracks were, Max and I entered one of the middle cars. Max, who had been in front the entire time, took a seat in an aisle with two sets of seats across from each other. I decided to give Max space by sitting across rather than next to him. I threw my bag on the seat in front of me, and Max seemed slightly bothered to have it right near him.

The train was very modern, running electrically and a having finely designed interior of cushioned seats and sturdy luggage railing hanging from the ceiling. There was even a sign for a concessionaire bar in the first car.

Soon after we sat, a man came by to check our tickets, and a few more people were starting board the train. I took notice of my dry mouth again, so I stood up, deciding to go to the concessionaire bar.

"I'm parched," I informed him. "I think I'll make a visit to the first car." I continued to look at him, waiting for a reaction. When he didn't react at all, save for a quick look at me, I gave him an aggravated huff and went on my way.

xxxxx

_-Max-_

Left alone, I was deeply curious whether Harley was even going to return. He had quickly grabbed a wad of cash before leaving, and since he left his bag, it seemed plausible he would be back… but for some reason, leaving his bag here with his belongings and two Pokémon wouldn't have surprised or shocked me. Because Harley was weird. He was a just a strange guy who had talked his way into coming with me to Ecruteak.

Harley probably wanted to stay at another hotel, since he had a dislike for Pokémon Centers, and in my own logical guess, nature, too. If so, would he want me there, too? As nice and roomy as a hotel was, I never had a problem with staying at a Center, and it wouldn't bother me even now. I was just more concerned about spending the night under the same roof as Harley.

As weird and embarrassing as earlier today had been, I guess there was nothing wrong with calling it interesting. I had never done anything even bearing a resemblance to that with another person, but by myself… and at night I had…

Just thinking about both things made me uncomfortable. The intimacy of it didn't even seem to phase the man. He was no stranger to what we had done, and I wondered exactly how _often _he did that sort of stuff and with _whom._

I was also concerned with _what _he did with others. My knowledge of that sort of stuff was limited, but I thought I knew. Did not _fully _knowing mean Harley would stop liking me? Did he even know that I was clueless?

"I got you this."

Harley turned into our small aisle of seats, handing me a glass of light brown liquid. There was sliced lemon on the rim of the cup, and I guessed it was iced tea. Since Harley had the same thing, I sniffed the drink to make sure he wasn't going to try and get me drunk or something. It smelt very normal, actually.

"Uhh… thanks," I said. I took a small sip. It tasted very normal, too.

Harley caught my caution and laughed. "Don't be silly. Why would I want to make Maximus a lush?" As he said this, he gave me a very odd look, smiling through, too.

The smile, for some reason, made me quickly narrow my eyes. And, when I looked back up, he was still giving me his burning stare. Although uncomfortable, I thought that because his stare was so coveting that it might've been a good time to breach my questions. I heard some people shouting as they entered the car. More waves of people entered afterwards, but eventually everyone settled in their seats. It was fairly crowded in our car, but the rest seemed relatively empty.

Fifteen minutes or so went by with a few last passengers boarding. Finally, though, the doors shut and the intercom came on saying the train was going to be departing. It made an exhausting steam sound at it settled before smoothly beginning to move down the tracks.

"So, um…" I tried looking up at him, but after a while of not speaking, I failed.

"Yes, what is it?" he wondered.

Still so curious about Harley, I asked, "So, like, um, how old are you exactly?" I bit my lip.

Harley crossed his legs in a very girlish manner and stirred his straw around in his glass. "How old do _you think _I am?" he pondered. The hair balanced on his shoulders fell as he moved, and he looked even more feminine without his hat.

"I knew you were going to say that," I sighed truthfully. "But, please don't make me answer that. I'm terrible with ages."

Harley considered this, probably realizing that I might end up insulting him. "I'm twenty-four, Maximus."

"_Twenty-four_?" I repeated. "I was going to say, like, twenty or something."

"Maybe I should've made you answer then," he quipped dully. "I was twenty when we met, though," Harley reminisced.

Harley was twelve years older than me! That was over a decade of an age difference. I had met so many older people in my travels, age just sort faded into the background of things, but twenty-four was half of my life. He had twice the life experience and probably met twice the people, including more-than-just-friends people. I had no reason to be concerned with that aspect of Harley's life, but I was very bothered by it. Maybe I just didn't like the idea of anyone trusting Harley when he was clearly so manipulative and weird. I mean, how stupid were you to get involved with Harley _that _way? Despite what had happened earlier, I in no way returned whatever emotion provoked Harley to do that.

"You look worried," Harley examined, raising his eyebrow.

"I was just thinking about how you're literally twice my age."

The man seemed a bit insulted by this until he thought about what I was saying. He gave a quick nod and told me, "I'm in no way old, just for your information."

"I bet you've had so many fun experiences," I guessed, slightly admiring the man for a brief moment, knowing this was true.

"Fun experiences?" he echoed, stifling a laugh.

I frowned. It wasn't _supposed _to sound perverted. I rolled my eyes as I muttered, "I'm sure you've had those kinds, too."

Harley let his laughter out and waved his hand in dismissal. "At times, yes," he affirmed, "but, they've all come and gone."

I narrowed my eyes. Harley's life experience was just such a contrast to mine. Unlike Ash, who was just a couple of years older than me, Harley was _twelve years_ older, and I was so curious as to what so many years of age brought to a person who was still very young.

"If your parents died," I started calmly, "you must have left home afterwards." I concluded this because I doubted Harley had always been a Pokémon trainer since he was ten.

"Indeed. How smart you are. I didn't really _care _for Pokémon when I was younger. But, when my parents died, I left just because. Then I caught my Cacturne—back then a Cacnea!—and was _in love._" He gave a sentimental smile.

When Harley and I met years ago, he had told me about being _afraid _of Pokémon. Though he was lying so I could spill stories about May's own dislike for the creatures, I guessed a small part of his statement was true. He wasn't afraid of them, but he was uninterested. Aside from all things, I wanted to tell Harley I was sorry for the loss of his parents. He probably didn't get along with them since he was so nonchalant about their death, so I decided not to ask about it. But, I felt pretty stupid for asking all these questions anyway. I wished he would just openly tell me about himself.

"Contests only became really popular in the last four or five years. When we were in Hoenn, May once told me she thought it was your first time entering Contests."

"Correct again!" he exclaimed. "Oh, this is fun. What else did you conclude about me back then?"

I blushed, but wasn't sure why. I didn't really want to tell him any of my old conclusions. May had hardly talked about him, and instead, it was _me _who had thought up so many weird things about the man.

"Well, uh, once," I stuttered, "I thought you sort of liked May. You know, _liked _her."

Harley immediately started laughing, and not in a mocking way, but in a way that revealed he was truly amused. Regardless, it still made me feel really dumb saying it. Harley even had to place his glass down on the armrest so he wouldn't spill it.

"Oh, Max," he breathed tiredly, "tell me that belief didn't last long."

"Well, I dunno…" I stammered. "Deep down, I thought you were always… um, well, you know… but I was confused when you dressed as May. You're weird, and I thought that might've been your way of showing you liked her or something."

"Pssh, you know nothing of why I chose to do that!" He expanded his grin. "Now that was fun. And, since you construe your sister so _bea-uta-fuully_, who was more charming: May or me _as_ May?"

I was _so not_ going to answer that!

When Harley dressed as May, I was very frightened by it, but also dumbfounded by how much effort it took. The outfit looked exactly like May's original. Harley had gotten ever stitch, fabric type and color right. Even the hair was spot-on. He could dress as May as often as he wanted, but he could never have May's particular qualities or mannerisms, skin pigment, smell…

"I still have that ged-up at home," he continued, interrupting my thoughts. "I doubt May wears hers anymore, but mine will always be timeless."

"I wouldn't call it that," I argued. "You scarred my sister for life."

"Ah, see," Harley said, wagging his finger, "_that _was my very intention."

I rolled my eyes. There was a dire need in me to change the subject. "What Pokémon did you catch in Johto?" I decided to ask.

"A Sneasel," he beamed directly, "and a Natu and a Totodile."

"A Totodile?" I wondered. "Prof. Elm offers them as Starters. It's cool that you caught one."

"Why thank you," Harley sincerely said.

It wasn't surprising he had caught more Pokémon, since he always showed up at Contests with a new one. I had a feeling he was very bad at training and orientating his team; he seemed very select with who he caught, though.

"I just remembered!" the man gasped. He leaned forward and grabbed his bag. He took out a pamphlet and scrambled to find the right way to open it.

On the front of the pamphlet it read: _Best Hotels in Johto!_ The sight of the title made me become very nervous. I felt like I was suddenly a burden to Harley, that I had no right to even think he would offer me to stay with him. But, he suddenly stood up, throwing his bag on the floor and plopping down on the seat next to me. He leaned over, pointing to some of the pictures.

"That one's in Ecruteak," he explained. "They have a lot of traditional inns there, but I could care less. This one looks the most modern."

I gave a quick nod. Was he asking my opinion? I scanned a section of the pamphlet that was labeled _Ecruteak,_ seeing three hotels listed. "I'm just staying at the Center," I informed him.

Harley looked at me in a rather harsh way. "No, you're not," he said.

I could honestly say I was a bit frightened by the look he gave and the intensity of what he said to me. "There's no reason to waste money on a hotel, Harley," I explained slowly.

"Even if _you _weren't here I would be 'wasting my money,' so the least you could do for me is keep me company." He draped an arm around me. "I'd miss little _Maax-ahh-muus,_" he went on, breathing out my name smoothly.

I shivered. "Why are you so full of favors all of the sudden?"

"You have such a low opinion of me," Harley groaned. "This isn't a favor, it's just what I do." The man rubbed his hand around my back.

I let him continue his ministrations. I even prevented my body from stiffening up in fear. Despite not being comfortable with what I _knew _he was thinking about, I didn't mind the current touch. The heat from his palm could be felt on my skin, even through the thick fabric of my hoodie. I quickly gulped down some of my tea to busy myself.

"Are you feeling better about everything?" he asked, slouching down in his seat and whispering into my ear.

_This_ made me back away, though. I shrugged his touch off my shoulders and said, "Not really." And, it was the truth. What Harley had done earlier invaded all respect of personal space, doing something that was too intimate and special to just be considered casual. I was not going to be "okay" until I figured out what everything meant.

Harley stopped rubbing my back and returned to looking at the pamphlet. Our arms were still touching as he said, "I just want a tub."

I furrowed my brow, guessing our discussion was over. So, I finished my drink, putting it on the wide armrest. I thought maybe I should go to sleep for the rest of the train ride, but Ecruteak was the first stop, and it was probably only another twenty minutes away.

Tapping my fingers on the armrest, I just blurted out, "I want to battle Morty right away."

"You're going to have to wait just one more day," Harley told me.

Knowing he was right, I sighed. Asking for a Gym Battle late in the day was never a good idea. My dad only scheduled challenges in the morning, believing it was the early light that ensured a tough and proficient battle. I couldn't wait for tomorrow all the sudden! Harley had said he wanted to meet Morty, but I knew it was lie to try and convince me to let him come with me. I still had to wonder if he had any interest in coming to watch the match, however.

A grin expanded on Harley and he wondered, "Are you ready for a battle, Maximus? Morty uses Ghost-types, I believe."

"That's where Kirlia comes in," I assured. "She is the only Psychic I have, but Murkrow, being a Dark-type, should work just fine!"

"So prepared," he mused, patting my thigh. He kept his hand on my leg for a moment, massaging it with his fingers before going back to looking at the hotel pamphlet. "There are too many four-star hotels here."

I shrugged absentmindedly. "They still look nice to me."

"That they do, but I'd still prefer a _five_-star hotel," he muttered. Then, "Goddamn, I wish I could have a cigarette."

I was thankful he couldn't, actually. The smell annoyed me when it came out of the burning cigarette, but his hair, which had that combination of tobacco and lavender-whatever, was fairly tolerable. If I concentrated long enough, I could smell it on him right now. I wondered if _I _had a smell that Harley picked up. I actually sort _wanted _to get a better whiff of his smell since I was remembering how nice it smelt on his pillow.

Since our arms were still touching, I moved just a bit, trying to seem as if I was readjusting my position. His long purple hair was spread out across his shoulders, and some of it was draping down around his collarbone. I leaned to my left just a _tad bit, _faintly smelling it.

I was too clumsy with my actions, though, leaning too much and catching Harley's attention. Of course, some self-satisfied smirk developed, and he raised an eyebrow questionably.

"What are you doing, hmm?" he asked through his smile.

"I'm uncomfortable," I lied. I relaxed my feet on the seat in front of me, trying to appear truthful.

"Oh," he voiced, sounding unconvinced. He copied me by putting his feet on the seat before him, slouching down again, but this time, further enough to make our height equal and our shoulders touch.

I moved away, though, now I could smell his hair very well. The scent bothered me all of the sudden, probably based on the fact I didn't like how he was moving about. Before I could scoot away any further, Harley wrapped his hand around my wrist, keeping me still.

"If you like being close to me," he explained, "don't try and deny it."

I blushed, looking around to the people on board. No one was even looking at us, but I felt like spotlight was beaming on me. I was very tense now. How could Harley act so casual about all of this? Was it not embarrassing to him, too?

Further testing my limits, Harley was able to snake an arm behind my back, wrapping it loosely around my waist. Slouched down, it was not obvious to anyone but us, but I still felt so exposed to everyone. His fingers were messing with the bottom of my shirt, slinking underneath and caressing my hip just slightly. My body became very heated due to my embarrassment, and I felt like I was burning up.

He just gave me a smile when I turned to him. His teeth flashed, and I was very uncomfortable with how he settled his hips up, then down, as if trying to prevent a reaction out of our physical contact. I was feeling nothing but embarrassment, and clearly he was feeling all sorts of things. I shut my eyes, leaning my head back to try and escape from being a part of this.

"You sure aren't used to being touched," he pointed out lowly.

"Should I be?" I questioned in an icy tone.

"Hmm," Harley hummed, twirling a single finger around my back and making goose bumps rise. "I suppose not, but we need to get you used to it."

This made me just steam with embarrassment. How could he say something like that? It was _not _what I wanted and certainly not something a twelve year-old boy should be told. All the sudden, _my_ age was more of a concern to me as opposed to Harley's. He was older and he could do what he wanted, but me… I hated to admit it, but I was still so young and all of this didn't seem to complement my age. I wasn't even sure if May had gone through half of the things I had in the last few days with Harley. Had May ever even… done anything…?

This just deepened how humiliated I already felt. I put a hand behind me to try and move Harley's arm, but before I had a chance, he removed his embrace and went back to sitting normally.

"Your whole body just got outrageously warm," he noted. "That's not exactly healthy." He gave somewhat of a disappointed raise of the eyebrows and then brushed out his hair with his fingers.

"I just don't like when you do that," I admitted. "It's weird."

"Everything to you is weird," he grumbled. Then, brightly, "Well, Max, you can get embarrassed all you want in public, but when we're alone…"

Alone?

Well, at least I wasn't a lunatic for being so disturbed by the thought of sharing a hotel room with Harley again. It settled nothing in my nerves, though. It made me even more distressed, actually. What did Harley intend to happen when we were alone? Now, I was dreading the train stopping at Ecruteak, knowing it would just be the two of us again.

Harley grabbed something from the front pocket of his bag. It was a slim, metal looking thing, which looked like a fancy version of a nail filer. He began filing his left nails in boredom. I looked at his hands work, his nails being longer than any male's I've seen, but shorter than any female's. My own nails were bitten and messy, resembling Ash's particularly.

Harley was _so _feminine sometimes. No, not sometimes—_always._ He did things even May didn't do, the perfect example being him filing his nails right now. May's nails were long and seemingly perfect, but she never filed them. Either she did it in private or her nails magically stayed the same length and quality. But, the way Harley walked, talked, acted… it was all so androgynous. It didn't bother me that much. Sure, it was a bit weird, but it wasn't enough to scare me away. His quirks and uniqueness made him enjoyable to be around, but when he tried to entice me with his seductive moves and words, I became downright suspicious and stressed.

After finishing his left hand, Harley just fiddled with the filer, slapping it down on his knee lightly and sighing. "I want a fucking cigarette," he groaned.

I rolled my eyes at this. "My father was always disgusted by cigarettes. If you like him so much, don't you think you're disappointing him?" I wondered.

Harley effortlessly slapped my shoulder with the filer, then poked my collarbone with it. "I only met Norman once," he stated. "Which is a shame. I could've wound-up as your stepmother."

"_What_?" I demanded. "That's gross!"

I was astounded once more at the kind of sentences he let come out of his mouth. The idea of my father… and him… and… Oh, it was just _wrong. _For one, my dad would probably rather die than ever be involved with another man, and two, _Harley _taking over the role as my mother? Ugh.

"Is it?" Harley pondered. "I think it would've been quite fun. I could've read you bedtime stories, tucked you in, helped you pick out little outfits. Oh, it would've been fabulous. I might've even been able to enforce some authority in that household and given you a good spanking or two." He grinned madly.

Those motherly roles were being tainted by his alternate meanings. When I had thought about Harley's feelings towards my father, I knew he was suffering from some obsessive admiration and respect, but it never struck me as being anything serious. Even though he told me I looked like my dad, I doubted he really saw my father in me, which was why I wasn't tempted to think he wanted me as a substitute. Though alike, my father and I could also be very different. Even Mom had said my personality differed from Dad's.

"I bet you have the most adorable room back home," Harley assumed.

"It's just an average room," I assured him firmly. "Do you _hear _yourself talk, Harley?" I then questioned.

"I do, and I find nothing wrong with what I'm telling you," he answered quickly. "Once, when I was in Petalburg City, I contemplated visiting the Gym just meet your Daddykins personally. Hmm, how old was I back then? I think I was around nineteen. I regret that I didn't because seeing little Max and May as youngens? Oh, that would be precious. Well, maybe not so much with May…"

I ignored the suggestive comments and instead asked, "Why didn't you visit?"

Harley snorted. "I didn't think he'd have the time to talk to me. I never wanted to earn badges, and I wasn't going to pretend to want one just to meet Norman. So, I waited, and eventually I met him at fan event." He flashed his teeth in a grin as he said, "Too bad you weren't there."

"I never went to my dad's events," I informed Harley. "He said there was nothing there of interest to May and me."

"Oh, I believe that. What could be scarier than watching a bunch of freaks swoon over your father and ask for autographs?" he mused with amusement.

"_You _were one of those freaks," I droned. "I'm glad I wasn't there."

Harley folded his arms in an insulted gesture. "I bet you were adorable as a child," he once again insisted.

"But, you met me when I was a child!"

"This is true, and you _have _changed quite a bit. You're taller, your face is much more defined, and you sound just a _little bit _more grown-up." He laughed, though I sensed it was out of something he kept to himself. "But, for the most part, you're still the same-looking kid. And, I'm glad."

It had been _four _years since I last saw Harley. Obviously I had grown and changed, but I was bothered with how he said I was still the "same-looking kid." Was that truly a good thing in his eyes, or was he joking and meaning the exact opposite? I decided I wasn't going to say anything more, fearful of what else he might let out of his mouth.

For the next fifteen or so minutes, Harley and I sat in silence. I had taken out my PokéNav, looking up more things about Ecruteak. There honestly wasn't a lot to do in the city. The Tin Tower didn't even sound _that _interesting, nor did that tea house I heard so much about. But, around Ecruteak were a lot routes, and after I beat Morty, I could choose between going to Olivine City or Mahogany Town. I was getting so close to earning my eighth badge! I always thought about Ash at times like this, thinking back to his equal excitement and pride at earning a badge and anticipating the League.

I shut off my PokéNav when I felt the train begin to slow down. Even though Harley was sitting next to the window, I looked out anyway, watching as we rode by the end of a forest route and towards the inner part of the city. I knew we would still have to walk some ways after getting off the train, as the station wasn't in the main part of the city.

Soon, the squealing quieted and the train stopped along a small outside ground port. The doors flew open, but only a handful of people gathered their belongings to leave. Harley and I followed suit, but it was obvious not a lot of people visited Ecruteak on an everyday basis.

Harley stretched tiredly as we stepped off the train. The sun was starting to set, but it was still very bright. With a strong breeze blowing around, the air was chillier than it had been in Goldenrod. I put on my backpack as we walked into the small station that consisted only of a deli, ticket purchasing booth and restroom.

"Before it gets too late," Harley said, "I should call one of these pretty hotels." He headed towards one of the phones, flipping open the pamphlet once more.

I wondered which hotel he chose. I stayed where I was, not following him. I didn't want him to think I had any intention of staying with him at the hotel, despite getting used to the idea now. It wouldn't have felt right because Harley would be paying and refuse my money. I was still surprised he had let me pay for my train ticket.

I usually tried calling my parents whenever I made it to a new town. Since I had called them just yesterday I didn't feel obligated to now. Besides, I knew Mom would ask if I had followed through with calling May. I was curious as to whether she earned her third ribbon. Being a Grand Festival Champion, she shouldn't have had any problems, but you never knew what kind of new people were entering Contests.

"I decided on the one I showed you."

I turned around to see Harley, who had somehow made his way back to me without me hearing a single footstep. "Oh," I voiced. "They had rooms still?"

"They sure did. The receptionist even said I was the only one to call in all day. I wonder why Ecruteak is such a bummed-out town now. It wasn't when I was here before. Everyone made such a big deal with that tower and I ended up being convinced to go visit the fucking thing."

"You_ went _to theTin Tower?" I shouted. "I thought you said you hadn't been!"

Harley seemed shocked by his own slip-up., but he just smiled and tilted his head with amusement. "I have been, Maximus."

"Why did you say you didn't then?" I wondered, very confused. "I wouldn't have cared either way, so why did you lie?"

Harley grinned more. "Because I wanted to come with you," he admitted without hesitation. "And, it was a lot easier to convince you to let me when you were under the assumption I missed out on something."

I sighed. "Would you really not have gone if I said I didn't want you around?" This was _just like _what he did with the pool, too. I couldn't believe I fell for the same trick twice. And, on the same day! At least I had caught on to the lie about wanting to meet Morty. I sighed and waved my hand to dismiss my question. "Never mind. It doesn't matter."

Harley patted the top of my head and said, "It sure doesn't. I'm here now, and what can you do about that? Without _me _you would have to suffer through another uncomfortable bed at the Pokémon Center."

"I already told you," I disputed, "I'm going to stay at the Center anyway."

"Why would you want that when I'm offering to let you stay with me? I got a room with two beds, Maximus. You won't have to worry about _anything_."

I bit my lip. Apparently, he caught on to some of my discomfort with staying with him. Yes, the idea of being under the same roof as him was once again weird, but the sleeping situation had worried me more. If Harley had the final say, I doubted he would've asked for two beds. And, since he _did, _I felt obligated not to deny his offer. Two beds meant the room was more expensive, and I didn't want him to waste his money. And, switching rooms seemed too troublesome.

I didn't want to give him a final answer, so I just shrugged my shoulders and said, "Well, whatever. We should get going."

"I agree. The sun is setting and I'm not too keen on being in the wilderness at the night where goddamn Pokémon can come and attack us."

I raised an eyebrow. "Ash always had us traveling at night when we weren't tired," I told him. "There's really nothing to be worried about. If you don't bother them, Pokémon aren't going to attack you."

He huffed, insulted that I had corrected him. "Let's go," he said, walking past me and going out the front entrance of the train station.

Thankfully, I could see the city even from where we were outside the station. We wouldn't have to walk that far. There was a sign that pointed west to Olivine and east to Central Ecruteak. We followed the sign's direction, walking towards the city.

The path to the city was covered with bicycle and foot tracks, and even though it was wide, the trees that surrounded us made it feel a whole lot smaller. A few kids even zoomed by with their bicycles, heading the opposite way towards Olivine. Since I felt as if we were on such a narrow road, it seemed as if I was unusually close to Harley. It reminded me of when we walked on the streets in Goldenrod. They were cramped, and the rain had only made me feel that much forced to stay near Harley. Back then, it hadn't meant much to me, but now it did. I wondered if he had felt anything for me at the time.

I noticed that Harley was quite a few feet ahead of me. He walked fast, lifting his feet high to avoid some muddy spots. He turned his head after a few minutes, realizing that I had fallen behind. He gave me a questionable look as he continued on.

"You walk too fast!" I complained.

Harley slowed his pace but didn't stop so I could catch up completely. When I finally _did, _I was out of breath, and I felt pretty stupid. Harley was the one who smoked; shouldn't he have been the one staggering and short of breath? It was absurd. Worst of all, Harley probably thought I always struggled to keep up, but that was far from the truth. With Ash and Brock, I was always _ahead, _and May was the one tiredly stumbling behind. I wanted to tell him this… but what was the point?

"I've seen those legs powerfully move in the pool, Maximus," he teased. "Surely, you can't tell me walking is any trouble for you."

I sighed. Did he always have to bring our conversations down that route? "It's not," I informed him. "_You're _just fast."

I was getting used to the pace, but I could feel my ankle muscles strain, and I predicted, I'd be sore tomorrow. Occasionally, the sound of my shoes scraping the dirt was loudly heard, and it was even startling enough to make a Pidgey fly off, thinking trouble was on the way. I kept up the pace regardless. Harley wasn't above leaving me behind, or on the ground, if I fell.

A skidding kick of dirt and the rustle of the grass made me stop walking. Over to the far right, I saw the tall grass stir and two thick, tan horns appeared as the head of something rose slowly. I moved forward, grabbing Harley's arm to stop him from walking. The man stopped instantly, giving me a curious look. He raised an eyebrow, then developed a crooked grin, amused and pleased that I had taken hold of his arm. I didn't feel like dwelling on that, though.

"Look!" I exclaimed, pointing towards the moving grass.

Harley turned to look, giving a quick expression of disappointment at realizing I had grabbed him for _that _and not for something else. But, the moving grass continued. I then realized the two tan horns were actually _antlers _with bumps and twists throughout them. Two black orbs, able to emit Psychic-like attacks, were planted on the antlers, along with engravings here in there. The creature's head perched all the way up, its jaw moving busily as it chewed on grass. The rest of its body was long and brown, and it stood comfortably on its four legs. I knew what it was, but Harley said it first:

"Oh, my, look at that. A _Stantler._"

"I know," I grumbled. Just to let Harley know I had my facts straight, I said, "They're Normal-types, but are capable of some Psychic attacks."

Harley scoffed, aware of why I said it. Since I was still holding onto him, he slid his arm down my back then back up so he could rest his hand on my shoulder. "If that's so, I know a certain Gym Leader who'd have trouble beating _that._"

"You're right!" I gasped. "I want it."

Harley chuckled at my determined statement, but it was true. Aside from being really cute, the happy Stantler would make a great edition to my team. Putting it up against Morty's Ghost-types could be risky since it was still a Normal-type, but with attacks like Psychic, Confuse Ray and Calm Mind, I'd be fine.

I hurriedly twisted off my backpack, choosing Mareep and throwing the Pokéball. Bursting out, Mareep had sensed the situation and positioned itself for battle. The cry of Mareep made Stantler look in our direction. It did not get frightened, but I could tell it didn't want to be around us. It began moving away calmly, showing off its bright coat as the dim glow of the sun hit. The colors revealed it was male.

"Mareep," I called out, "Thunderbolt!"

Mareep's wool fluffed up in static and the electric shocks sparkled before bursting fully out. The yellow thunder hit the Stantler, and it cried out before leaping over the patch of grass and racing towards our direction. Harley, who still stood close, pulled me back, urging me to move out of the way. I did so while Mareep moved further out to clash with Stantler.

Though head-butting Mareep on the side, Stantler couldn't avoid the Iron Tail I ordered. Mareep then let out another shock of a Thunderbolt, the electricity running through the Stantler's body and paralyzing it.

"Tackle!" I shouted.

Mareep's final blow made Stantler stumble on its back legs until it completely lost its balance. I wasted no time throwing a Pokéball in that direction. It made contact with the creature, absorbing it with the red light and hitting the ground as it shook.

And, it kept shaking! I clenched my fist, hoping that the Stantler would be caught, not only to become a part of my team, but also so I wouldn't have to face the embarrassment of failing to catch a Pokémon in front of Harley. He was watching _me, _not the Pokéball, and I was sure that the same could be said when I was battling Stantler, too.Harley had humiliated me enough in the past few days, and I was _so _determined not to face that again.

But, the ball settled. The ball settled and the light on the button went off. And, I had caught Stantler.

Mareep was the first to react. She let out a cheer, hurrying back to me to celebrate. I smiled down at her, patting her head and feeling slight waves of static where her coat began.

"Thanks so much, Mareep," I praised. After I petted the creature for a while longer, I returned her, giving her a proper rest in her ball. I then walked slowly over the ball containing my new Stantler and picked it up.

"Congratulations, Maximus," Harley happily said. He put on his sunglasses—which had still been on his head—so he could avoid the setting sun. "I'm glad I was here to see that."

At first I wasn't sure if he was mocking me, but I figured not because of the smile printed on his face, the kind I had not seen before. "Thanks…" I replied, my cheeks burning.

Harley moved toward me. I had a feeling he was going to do something, so I took a step back, trying to appear as if I was ready to go again. Harley, however, didn't see my discomfort as any reason to stop his attempt, and instead, reached out and patted my head in a humiliating sort of way. All that work just to touch my head! It just showed he could be quite determined with something so small and pointless.

The man went on to stroke my hair for like the billionth time as I stuffed the Pokéball into my backpack. After that, the two of us started walking, continuing in our direction. I felt lighter, a familiar feeling after having caught a Pokémon. Stantler was my fourth Pokémon from the Johto Region. I hoped to catch a few more before I made it to the Johto League. After going through Hoenn, I had caught nine, six being my team: Sceptile, Mightyena, Breloom, Kirlia, Pelipper and Slugma. All of them began as their original evolution, which made them quite strong by the end of my journey. I also had Dodrio, Magnectric and Spinda, who I had alternated in and out of my team on occasion.

Unlike May, I hadn't had a lot of luck capturing rare Pokémon in the Hoenn Region. The only truly rare one had been Dodrio, but it wasn't into battling at all. I wondered how May and Harley managed to capture Pokémon rare in certain regions, such as Bulbasaur and Wigglytuff.

"So, where did you catch your Totodile?" I wondered. Totodile might not have been rare, but it was one of the Pokémon Prof. Elm offered as a Starter, and most people didn't have one unless they _did _get it from Elm.

"Why? Do you want one?" he asked jovially

"Ash had one, too," I explained. "So, I wondered if you caught them in the same area."

"I got mine in Blackthorn City. I caught it a few days after I lost the Grand Festival." He grumbled something under his breath, but regained himself and continued, "Knowing that sister of yours _won _was no comfort, but at least I had a new capture. You know, _as if_ May deserves to be a Ribbon Cup Champion." Harley was starting to spew, preparing himself for a rant of the sort.

Harley_ was_ seething with a sincere, but somehow _controlled _bit of anger. Although it was obvious May had beaten him at the Grand Festival, I never thought about what it must have felt like to see May go on to _win. _I never knew the feeling because the champion of the Johto League was not the opponent who beat me. I still felt like I could relate on some level of empathy, though, and I sort of realized for the first time why he might have been so angry with my sister. Not that it justified his anger, of course.

"_I _deserve that spotlight of being the champion. She has zero traits or gift for fame."

I shrugged. "May didn't really get a lot of attention for winning," I informed him. "One or two magazines interviewed her, but that was it. Johto Contests don't really receive as much attention as the ones in Hoenn."

Harley pursed his lips and released the pressure with a slap sound. "_Well, _that is true. And, very fortunate, seeing as how they avoided spreading her existence to the world."

I groaned in annoyance. I could relate to seeing a rival win, but I certainly couldn't grasp why Harley thought May was synonymous to evil. I also didn't understand why Harley spent so much time badmouthing her victory and yet was wasting time on his "vacation." That made no sense.

Ahead of us, I finally saw the city area of Ecruteak. As we approached, Harley let out a loud, exaggerated yawn, half-covering his mouth. The city was very simple, and like Harley said, very traditional. The Tin Tower literally _did_ tower over every other building in the city, appearing so old and rickety that I didn't even want to go inside it later. But, despite its dark and rusty color, it didn't look all that _burned, _though I knew the story behind the structure.

I saw many teahouses, inns and the Pokémon Center. There was no mart for supplies, but I guessed such a small town would end up having self-run shops, which were always more expensive. At the very far left of my sight, I spotted a modern-looking tan building, probably the second tallest structure in the city. With a very fancy sign reading _Nest Inn, _I knew for certain it was the hotel Harley had showed me.

As we walked, Harley tilted his sunglasses down his nose a bit, looking over the lens and down to me. "It's late," he told me matter-of-factly. "I don't see anything in this city that would excite the souls within us."

I knew he was hinting at checking into the hotel. Once again, it just disturbed me. "You can go ahead and go," I told him calmly. "I think I'm going to go to the Center and get Stantler and Mareep checked out."

Even though he continued to walk, Harley huffed loudly and put his hands on his hips. "I know what you're trying to do, _Maximus. _You're going to just end up staying there all night, and I must say, it's even ruder to have me under the assumption you're staying with me and never showing up than just rejecting my offer straight off the bat."

I gaped at his long hypothesis. "N-No!" I shouted. "I wouldn't do that!" But, truly, I wasn't sure if that's what I had subconsciously been planning.

"Then what are you avoiding, hmm?" he wondered, biting his lip.

"I just want to get my Pokémon checked!" I explained roughly. "Why does it even matter anyway? Your whole obsession over sharing a room together is _creepy._"

"If it was creepy, you wouldn't still be hanging around me, darling," he insisted.

"If I stay with you I bet—" I stopped mid-sentence and decided to rephrase myself. "I'm not sure _why _you want me to stay with you."

"We've been over this," Harley sighed out tiredly. "I like your company, and I don't see why you should deal with uncomfortable beds."

"It's more than just that, and you know it," I said in a quieter tone.

"You want it to be more than that, don't you?"

I stopped walking and looked at him with a very puzzled expression. "What do you mean?"

Harley stopped, too. "Maximus," he began, shrugging out his entire arms, "you're spending far too much time wondering what happened this morning. And, believe me, I'm _more than happy _to be in your thoughts, but I think I need to speed up your conclusion and just tell you that whether or not you and I end up fucking, I still want you around."

"_Harley_!" I exclaimed, turning away from him afterwards. My face was so red, redder than it ever had been before in my life. I gaped several times, trying to say something intelligent before I just gave up and said, "I never even thought about that…"

But, what a lie that was! Ever since this morning, I had thought about it, thought about how weird it would be for Harley to want that, and how inappropriate and too soon it would be for me. And, Harley knew I was lying, because I could just sense the grin on his face even though I wasn't facing him.

"Oh, you've thought about it, Max," he settled on saying. "And, I think somewhere beneath all that little boyish confusion, you'd like very much for it to happen. And, why not? What better time for a boy to lose his virginity than when all his hormones are raging?"

"I don't have hormones!"

Harley laughed and said, "Then I guess I'm wasting my time on you."

"So, that's all you want from me?" I wondered, turning to face him again with a very irate expression.

"_You _need to figure what you want from me, Max. I know what I want, and I might share it with you if you figure out your own _problemos_."

It wasn't fair he kept playing with words and turning everything back on me. This was way too complicated to try and figure out. Harley was basically giving me a choice. If I came with him, the two of us seemingly had some sort of schedule to follow according to him; but, if I didn't come with him, he would act like I had insulted him when really I would chose not to come based on _my own _issues. I had no idea why Harley had to be so… _so Harley._

As I dwelled on this all, Harley had lit a cigarette. He moved some of his hair behind his shoulder and pondered, "What will it be, darling? Are you coming with me? I told you already: there's two beds, so if you don't want to have fun, we don't have to."

Have fun? I didn't even want to try and figure out what he meant, though I was 99 percent certain I already knew. And, wait a minute, he just called me "darling" again, didn't he? Only my _mother _ever called me that.

"I want to get my Pokémon checked out," I finally said.

"And, what about after you do that?" He tilted his head, blowing out some smoke from his mouth.

"I don't want you to have wasted your money by getting a room with two beds," I tried explaining.

Harley smirked. "Well, however you justify it is fine with me." He held his cigarette between his lips and began walking away towards the direction of the hotel.

I was about to follow him, but thought against it. I honestly did want to go to the Center, but I feared that if I did, I wouldn't have the courage to go to the hotel. I frowned heavily, feeling as if I was left hanging, as if our conversation was unfinished and as if I was never going to see Harley again. I was becoming so cowardly and gutless, completely unable to step up and approach the mess I had fallen into with Harley.

"Harley…" I called out, the volume still slightly low.

Harley turned around and cocked his head again. I _knew _I looked so stupid and retarded just standing there lost, but I _was _lost. I didn't know where I was going or what Harley wanted from me.

For a while, Harley just looked at me, his eyebrow raised in a way suggesting he wanted _me _to speak. But… I didn't. And, neither did he. I couldn't even see his eyes because of the dark sunglasses he wore. The fading sun just hit the lenses, lazily revealing _nothing. _The sun was hurting my eyes, but I didn't care.

"Y_eeee_s?" he finally asked.

"I'm sorry."

God, that was pathetic. _I _was pathetic. How could Harley even want me when I was this pitiful? I had no idea how he could like me but hate May so much. She would never let herself act so stupid in front of someone. She would never just stand there and wait for someone to decide for her what she should do… like I was doing with Harley now.

And, so, fed-up with the silence, Harley moved towards me. I backed up, alarmed by how he stomped his feet, even though it was slothful. He took his cigarette into his hand and ended up placing his palms on both my shoulders. Looking down at me, he appeared as if he were going to give me words of wisdom, like some mentor.

"I want you to stay at the hotel with me," he stated, "and I would feel an immense amount of disappointment if you chose to stand me up because you think I'm some goddamn pedophile, which I'm most certainly not."

I furrowed my brow, watching and feeling as he kneeled down, letting our heights shrink in comparison. His loose grip on my shoulders tightened, and I felt a small flame of heat from the cigarette just centimeters from my clothing. Soon, Harley's face was only a few inches from mine, and I didn't even care about the possibility of ashes staining my hoodie. When his breath hit my face, I immediately turned in every direction, looking to see who could possibly be around. But, there was no one near or far.

He kissed me. Just like that, his lips were on mine, and he wasted no time turning his head and letting his tongue slip into my mouth. I shivered, not wanting to think this was anywhere close to being normal. But, the velvety sides of his lips were warm and smooth, and it… felt _nice. _And, yet, I couldn't get myself to respond or close my eyes.

He broke the kiss, sticking his cigarette between his lips and sucking in some fumes. "Have a fun time at the Center, Max," he told me half-mocking, and then began walking towards the hotel again.

I couldn't even begin to collect my thoughts afterwards. I just walked towards the Pokémon Center, and I hoped I would be able to regain some of my senses.

xxxxx

_-Harley-_

I had finished checking into the hotel room, now walking up the stairs as slowly as I could manage. Apparently, this town was against elevators or something ridiculous like that, so the hotel only had staircases. Thankfully, my room was on the second floor, and the hotel as whole only had five stories.

When I found my room, I slid the cardkey through the slot, pushing open the door with ease and stepping into the room as I allowed my bag to fall off my shoulders. The first thing I noticed about the inside of the room was the large window from the far end. The shades were pulled back, emitting the last of the sun's light from today. It was on its way to completely disappearing, and I wondered if Max had any plans of truly coming.

It might have been better if he didn't, because I lied to him about the beds. There was one, and it had nothing to do with saving money or anything about being cheap at all. I just wanted to trap him in my corner, and it sounded like a good idea at the time, but _now _it felt like wasted effort since I doubted he was going to show up, that fucking tart.

But, this room was extravagant. It wasn't even a room; it was a suite. There was a comfy little living room where you entered, complete with a coffee table, couch, occasional chair and television set. Then to the end of the living room, there was that large window, taking up the entire wall.

I walked to the other side of the suite by going through a short hall where the bathroom was located to the right. Inside the bedroom was a single bed, another television, a dresser and a lovely balcony. I figured I'd blame the hotel if Max _did _ended up coming and questioned the bed situation. Regardless, I had a feeling Max didn't want to come here because he thought we _had to _fuck, but he had no idea what he was missing in terms of the room's exceptional beauty.

I switched one of the lights on the nightstand. Then, I placed my bag on the dresser, setting out my hairbrush, cigarettes and grabbing my Pokéball containing Wigglytuff. I had once again neglected to let them out, so I decided it was now or never. Even so, I only let Wigglytuff out, since she was in a much more desperate need of non-confinement.

The balloon-like creature stretched its body in a tired sort of way, realizing she was indoors and realizing it was I, not Nurse Joy, who had let her out. She gave me a very disgruntled look, appearing as if she was going into the battle mode, which was the only time she ever looked fierce and angry.

I laughed, taking off my jacket and putting it on the dresser, too. "I've been busy," I told her.

The pink creature groaned, sounding annoyed and unsatisfied with my answer.

"I think the two of us need to find someone to battle," I then mused. "Maybe if my little Maximus decides to show up, I can convince him to a battle before he scampers off to challenge what's-his-face tomorrow."

She cocked her head, the nickname for Max not ringing a bell.

"Oh, little Maximus," I began with a greedy smirk, "is this devilish little faunlet who I've decided to claim before the two of us go separate ways."

Wigglytuff seemed disinterested, either not understanding my explanation or not caring. Both seemed logical. Only Cacturne and Ariados ever seemed to grasp my antics of pursuing certain conquests.

"We battled his sister way back when," I told her. "I doubt you remember, because I myself hardly do anymore." I sighed and finally took off my sunglasses. I turned to the balcony, and for a second, watched the last of the sun disappear.

I was so goddamn tempted by Max, it wasn't even the least bit funny. That kid had been using all his little mischievous strategies to try and get me hard, just to turn around and pretend he had no idea what he was doing. Oh, like hell he did… Well, _actually_, in all reality, he didn't, but it was easier dealing with how much I wanted to screw that boy by believing _he_ was the one tempting _me._

Wigglytuff had disappeared into the other room. I searched for a packet of food at the very bottom of my bag and walked into the living room, finding the pink balloon waddling around the coffee table. I grabbed a tissue from the bathroom and poured the packet of food onto it, placing it on the table for Wigglytuff. I really had become quite the awful trainer, feeding my Pokémon on a goddamn tissue and ignoring them for days on end.

I, myself, was not hungry at all. Just fucking aroused and restless. If Max were to knock at my door right now, I would have opened it, grabbed the boy by his hair, pushed him down onto the floor and had my goddamn way with him. I lolled my eyes back at the thought, a constricting tightness developing in my groin.

When I returned to the bedroom, I sat on the large bed, thinking about this morning and how epic it had been to have Max's cock deep in my mouth, where it belonged. Oh, and to think of that kid swimming was a vision of its own. Then, as he had triumphantly caught that Stantler today, with his full concentration on the battle! Needless to say, it had to be the most darling thing I had seen. May and him contrasted like black and white with how they positioned themselves in battle. May would lean forward and move her body about in what could have been mistaken for a nervous fit; Max, as I saw today, just huffed his chest and clenched his fist, allowing his muscles to strain in his legs. Ah, it was brilliant.

I was growing hard at the thought of Max's creased brow, his gorgeous little cheeks, his fucking legs that splashed through the pool water this morning and then struggled to keep up in the forest before Ecruteak. I leaned back in bed, undoing my belt and slipping a hand inside my pants.

Hard and already aching, my cock hit my intruding hand, and I quickly wrapped my palm around it, readying myself. I promptly began pumping my length up and down, the grip of my hand tightening greedily as I put my left arm over my eyes and bit my lip as I tried to quiet a needy moan. I ended up humming, bucking my hips up to meet my continual hand jerks.

My breathing quickened, and I could feel my release building. I pictured Max's pathetic little expression just before I left him, wishing it was his hand around my cock, wishing he was here in bed with me, begging to be fucked the way a boy his age should've been! My fingers trickled around the head of my erection, feeling the heat and sweat from my thighs, my palm, my—

—a pounding knock from the door made me sit up in a rush, letting go of my cock and going limp at the reflex of having been caught doing what I was doing. I was frozen, unsure what the bloody hell just happened. It took several seconds for the knock to register.

_Max…_

Oh, yes, that non-disappointing little tart had decided to come here, after all. Even though I was no longer hard, I knew I would be all over again if he insisted on being in faunlet-mode when I let him in the room. I sighed and adjusted my pants back to the way they were. I buckled my belt, brushing out my hair quickly and then heading towards the door.

Wigglytuff was near it, wondering who was there. I gave her a smile that revealed my jovialness, and before I opened the door, I exhaled like some fucking teenage girl anticipating her prom date.

When I swung the door open, I saw Max's short and adorable figure standing there, not even looking up at me. Just to tease him, I leaned against the doorframe, my shoulder supporting my weight. I lifted an eyebrow and wondered, "Yes?"

This tone got Max's attention, and he looked up at me curiously. "Mareep and Stantler are fine," he just said, narrowing his eyes back to the ground halfway through the sentence.

"Is that so?" I smirked.

"Stop," he ordered, and he pushed his way through the doorframe and into the room like some snotty little prick.

Wigglytuff made an exclamation, unsure about Max's presence.

I closed the door and walked further into the room. "This is _my Maximus _I was telling you about," I explained, empathizing on the nickname to tick off Max.

Max rolled his eyes but looked at Wigglytuff with curiosity and interest. "She looks so much sweeter than when I first saw her," he noted.

Wigglytuff cocked her head again, but accepted the compliment with a smile. Max reached out and patted the Pokémon's head. I looked over to the food I set out, seeing it was all gone.

I retrieved the Pokéball from the other room and said, "Little Max and I need some privacy." I then returned Wigglytuff, the creature giving a weird look before disappearing into the ball.

Max sighed and let his shoulders sag as he placed his backpack on the coffee table. "Nurse Joy said Stantler roam all over the place here, but hardly anyone ever catches them."

I wasn't sure if that was a lie or not, but I said, "Now I'm extra glad to have been a witness of your catch." I took a seat on the sofa, wondering if Max had any idea what I had been doing before he knocked on the door. "So, how'd you know what room yours truly was in?"

"The lady at the front desk told me," Max explained, roaming around the room and examining the decorations.

Without my jacket, my arms felt bare and the chill in the room began affecting me. Despite that chill, I sensed a stuffy discomfort in Max due to being here with me. I cleared my throat in a mannerly fashion, and started, "You know, I believe the clerk may have messed up on my specifications, because if you look for yourself, they failed to provide a room with two beds."

Max's face turned from puzzlement to disbelief to simple annoyance. Instead of saying anything outrageously rude, he exhaled and muttered something quietly. I let it slide without saying anything back, not wanting to test the boy's limits at the moment. Max could possibly just storm out of the room and back to the Center, if he wanted. This boy was even more moody than a menstrual woman, except he didn't make excuses for his attitude, let alone seemed to realize it existed.

Honestly, it wasn't all that pleasant, but a boy with his impeccable charms could handle it right, if you asked me. I was willing to put up with a lot more just to get what I wanted from him.

"Is Maximus hungry?" I asked sweetly, giving him a very dashing look.

But, Max shook his head. "I ate at the Center."

This revelation made me frown. And, what if I _had _ordered some sort of meal for us? I had a feeling the boy would've eaten the food anyway, just because he could be a gentleman like that, but _still—_why had he eaten all alone? Maybe he just wanted to spend his own money since he was under the assumption I wasted my own. Since _I_ wasn't hungry, I guess there was no reason to care all that much.

Max walked around the room, investigating more. This room was a lot more exquisite than the one in Goldenrod, and he better have damn well realized that. Well, if he did, he didn't make an effort to reveal it. Finished with looking at this room, he went off to the bedroom.

I got up and followed, slinking near the doorframe of the room and watching as Max just looked blankly at the bed, dresser and window. I wished I knew what he was thinking. It was impossible because his eyes wouldn't stay on one object. Annoyed by his dull ease, I approached him, surprised how he stayed where he was instead of moving. I placed my hands on his shoulders, dropping to my knees gradually wrapping my arms around his chest. I pressed my own chest against his back, feeling him become rigid before he slowly relaxed.

Yet, he relaxed. That was a good sign for sure. I put my chin on his shoulder, nudging the side of my face against his. He let out a puff of air and closed his eyes.

"I'm _very _glad you kept your word," I told him. "You had me pacing about like a john waiting for a lady escort."

Max grunted, but made no attempt to escape my embrace. "I felt bad, but you don't have to compare me to—"

"—to a whore?" I finished for him, not wanting any harsh terminology coming from his delicate little mouth. "You're right, though. It's not fair to compare you to a loose harlot when I'm certain you're the exact opposite, if you know what I mean."

The boy seemed uncomfortable with my statement, his head sinking down. I pushed him close into me, trying to comfort him by stroking his chest with my entire arm. Max had been breathing in and out normally, but his breath sharpened when my lips grazed the tip of his ear and my tongue flicked behind it just for a second.

"Harley," Max voiced in a cautious tone, "don't you want to rest?"

"We can get to that," I assured with a smirk. I almost chided him for making this a big deal, but thankfully, I stopped myself. As much as I didn't want it to be a big deal, whatever would happen very well had to be one for my little Maximus. He was untouched, pure, and although I anticipated him being frigid as hell, I was ready to find a way to let loose that repressed and reserved tart within him.

I figured trying to move things in my desired direction was worth a shot. After all, being tightly pressed against the boy was renewing my previous arousal. Max had interrupted my fun, and I believed he should've had the decency to repay me for it. I grinned through my teeth, spinning the boy around to face me.

Max dodged my stare. I was displeased, so I lifted his chin with my hand and leaned in. Max clearly suspected the kiss was coming, because he shut his eyes, blocking out the image of me. His small, soft lips were shaky, but that jittery nerve allowed my tongue to easily slip through. I felt the back of his teeth, then the roof of his mouth, then, finally, our tongues slid against each other. The boy somehow managed to swallow some of his spit, unsure of how to respond, if at all.

Hot and somehow both rough and smooth, his mouth was the most magnificent and scrumptious thing about him. Maximus tasted of something sweet and salty, obviously his everyday taste since this very morning the same flavor lingered. I couldn't believe he hadn't moved away from me at this point, and the hardness in my pants just increased. I moaned into his mouth, pushing his head forward so our lips stayed passionately locked. And, yet, he _still _wasn't responding.

Disgruntled, but still ridiculously hard, I broke our kiss, moving my mouth down his chin and onto his collarbone. I leaned my face into the crook of his neck, all the meanwhile, taking his hand in mine and dragging it down my body until it rested on the stiff area of my crotch. Max gasped at the feeling, surprised to be touching me. He kept his hand there, however, even after I released my own from on top of his.

Max's fingers moved only for a second, but the small brush sent me into an astonishing state of joy. I desperately needed more. I thrust my hips forward, his palm being forced to rub against my cock. I choked back a pleased groan, and Max gaped at how he caused such a reaction from me. He was undoubtedly intrigued. He even kept his eyes open and was staring down at his hand against my body. When he looked back up at me, I grinned wickedly, not wanting to keep things in a continual slow pattern.

Though comforting and pleasant, the fabric of my pants was restricting me from a fully blissful touch. I was actually hesitant to do anything at all in fear he would be startled and end the one bit of contact that proved to be an absolute joy. But, that curious look in his eyes excited me and made all wary hesitation go out the window.

I ran my fingers through his hair, assuring he should have _some_ faith in me. I then used both my hands to unbuckle my belt once again, and Max, skeptical, let his hand drop, losing contact from my hardness. I grunted, taking in a deep breath as I pulled the green garment down my hips and thighs. Max nervously swallowed again, but didn't appear very shocked I had nothing on underneath my pants. I extended my hand, rubbing a single thumb over his cheekbone.

"Harley, I…" the boy trailed off and narrowed his eyes.

I made sure our bodies were reasonably close before I urged the boy back towards me, making him lean into my chest. I wrapped a hand around his wrist, guiding it back towards my exposed self. Max made some sort of unsure huff, trying to fight his hand away.

"What's the matter?" I questioned, my tone a bit on-edge.

"I…" Max sighed, frustrated with his inability to form a sentence. "I don't know how, um…"

I moistened my lips. "Then just follow my lead, _Max_im_us_," I suggested, purring out his name. He gave me a look, but I continued to try and get his hand around me. When I finally succeeded, him being absolutely no help, I lifted his fingers up to encircle my hard length. I gasped, smiling through it and unable to control the need to have our mouths pressed together.

Our chests fused, our mouths locked, I growled in needy lust as I pushed my hips back and forth beneath his loosely encircled hand. Max moved his head away, trying to look the other direction. My palm spread-out against his back, I slid it down, clutching to the waist of his shorts. I messed with the zipper and single button, pulling them down to his ankles.

"Mmm, well, look at these," I commented, my finger tracing over his hipbone and down towards his tight little undies. _Ahh, _they are remarkably fitted: his semi-hard cock pressed against the apparel and his overall curves nicely complemented with the dark blue hue of the material.

Max's face burned with embarrassment, and I could tell he wanted me to stop talking. I just smirked crazily, my fingers flowing inside his adorable undies and feeling around for his length. Oh, and with just a few jerks of my fist, I made it fully hard. Max's head tilted backwards, the boy biting his bottom lip hard and practically holding his breath.

I began moving my hips again. Max's hand tightened because of my strokes against his own boyhood, and I knew the more I touched _him, _the more he'd unintentionally touch _me. _I gave a wide grin, letting one hand pull down his underwear and letting the other stroke him in my enveloped grip.

"Har_ley_…" the boy panted, completely involuntarily.

The sound of my name wheezing from his mouth drove me mad. I stood up, not even being able to register the surprised and uncertain expression that swept across the boy's face. I just pushed him back on the bed, only half-gently. The boy lied there for a few seconds, before removing his glasses from his face and placing them near the pillows.

I crawled onto the bed with him, removing my tank-top and now being completely naked. Max examined my body, trying to appear as if it was just a quick scan, but his eyes lingered below my waist. I sat above him, positioning my legs on either side of him.

I shivered at the image of him beneath me. But, he needed to get that hoodie thing off of him _now. _I took the clothing by its end, lifting it up and over his body with little help from his lazy self. When I managed to pull it off, Max's hair was disheveled, and he had his eyes tightly shut. I leaned over his body, placing a hand on his thin, flat chest while my lips lingered over his.

He opened his eyes slowly and said, "I'm sorry."

I furrowed my brow, taken aback. "For _what_?"

"For not knowing what to do," he told me.

I sniggered, brushing my bangs out of my face. "Oh, Maximus, don't be. This is undeniably going to be one fantastic phenomenon." Still close to his face, I let our lips touch. I sucked at his bottom one, wet and slippery against my dry and plush ones.

Max managed to gain some courage, moving his right hand around my body and cautiously resting it against my back. I supported my weight with a single hand as I lifted myself straight up, rubbing our bodies together: our chests, our legs, our arms, and of course, our cocks.

Not knowing what to do, hmm? Max thought he should be sorry about that? It was ironically hilarious. If Max only _knew_ how hard I got just thinking about him! It was frightening to know I was this turned on by his youth, his innocence, his _inexperience. _I wanted to teach him everything I knew, I wanted to corrupt Max in the best possible way and prove he _was_ that seductive little tart.

Max's eyes were shut tight, but for once, I didn't fear it was because he was trying to think of something else; I knew he was concentrating on this, on _us. _I thrust my body against his, our erections sliding against on another roughly, but so damn amazingly. I stopped supporting myself with one hand, trying to do it myself as I slid the free arm between our bodies, using it on the boy. Max's hips sunk down into the mattress, but his knee jerked, a sign of trying to control how revealing he was about enjoying my touches.

Still keeping our friction, I let go of his length and slipped my hand further beyond his body, a single finger guiding the way. Max's eyelids flung open, moving away from my finger pressing around a certain cleft. He blinked a few times, watching me above him, my arms out of his sight, but my hands busying themselves accordingly.

"Wha—?" Max cut himself off, discovering my touches were intentional. He now seemed very uncomfortable and stiff, making the opening I was attempting to reach into tight and uninviting.

"Relax, Max," I tried to persuade, slowing our grinding bodies to comfort him.

Max clenched his teeth at the feeling of our cocks rubbing against one another, but his jaw tightened in discomfort when my finger managed to squeeze into the puckered hole. He constricted his muscles, my finger feeling the pressure as he unintentionally complicated the situation.

"Relax," I repeated, taking my free hand and using it to stroke his hair.

Max clearly had no idea what I was trying to do now, but I lifted my weight up, angling my finger right before I plunged it further into his body. Max grunted, uncomfortable, but I then bent my digit again, stroking into his taut, hot body and making him moan softly when I hit the sensitive spot. The moan, _his _moan, escaping his lips at my touches made me wish it wasn't my finger buried deep into his body, but my own cock. That constricting tightness would've felt so amazing as I thrust in and out of him, his legs wrapped around my waist.

I wanted to be inside him. I wanted—no, _needed_—it so badly that I positioned myself away from him, losing contact with his erection as I almost readied myself for it. I could do it if I wanted to, I really could. What was the difference if I didn't ask? He would've fought me, yes, but I'd get him to settle down and enjoy it. He'd learn how amazing having another man fuck him was. My breathing hitched as I continued to rub into his tight ass.

Despite it all, Max extended his arm, wanting to return the favor by wrapping his hand around my cock and slowly moving it up and down. I groaned in excitement and pleasure, the speed quickening more and more. I couldn't believe he had reached out and touched me on his own accord. I must have been imagining things, I really must've. And, though his touches were clumsy and messy, the knowledge of it coming from him, my Maximus, made it delightful.

I kept my finger penetrated, flicking it back and forth, each time making the boy's hips quiver despite his best efforts to stay calm. I felt my own muscles constrict, an impending release on its way but seeming just too far out of reach. I repositioned myself against the boy, rubbing our bodies together mercilessly, not even caring to properly balance myself anymore. I leaned forward, my chest and face close to Max's. I felt his heavy breathing right on the nape of my neck, and it urged me on, thrusting against him again and again until I felt both our bodies tighten. My digit curved and bent, matching the rhythm of my hips.

"H-Harley!" the boy gasped, his brow creasing, and his hips thrusting up against me.

Hot liquid hit my stomach as Max quietly continued to let out small gasps and cries. The sound of my name in such a needy tone caused my own release, messily landing into the hand I used to stroke Max out of the aftershocks. My weight fell, and I slowly slid my finger out from the boy. Still on top of him, I panted, my head lolled back as I gazed at the ceiling, not even believing I had done this again.

Max made a noise beneath me, uncomfortable with the weight I forced onto him after my release. I moved away, collapsing next to him and panting wildly as I tried to catch my breath. I then turned onto my side, watching as Max rested there with his eyes closed. I could tell he was trying to control his breathing the best he could. I simply pushed myself against him, my lips hitting his. I kissed him deeply, using my clean hand to rub his back soothingly.

And, then I felt it: I felt Max's mouth move against mine, our lips brushing strongly together and his tongue hitting my own. This was the first time he responded to a kiss, and goddamn, it was wonderful to feel the response. His movements made _me _freeze, and Max automatically stopped, thinking he had done something wrong. He backed away until I urged him back, our mouths meeting once more before I flopped onto my back and gave a loud exhale.

"Oh, _Maximus, _who knew you were capable of such obscene behavior," I chuckled, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand and cleaning off my hand and stomach. I then threw an arm over my head, falling backwards onto the bed and sighing once more.

Max said nothing in return. I had a feeling he was starting to regret it, just like this morning. Frankly, I would've been annoyed if he started acting up again. And, worst of all, I hadn't been able to shag him the way _I wanted _to, which would've been far more enjoyable than just mounting each other to death.

This made me wonder, though… What on earth was going to happen now? I still wanted to get into that virginal little ass, but I had feeling after tonight, Max never wanted to see me again. This didn't just anger me, either; I was sincerely _distraught_ by the thought of a missed opportunity, an unsuccessful conquest. I prodded Max softly with my elbow, wanting him to say something to distract me from my thoughts.

"What?" he wondered, sounding like his typical moody self and nothing like the embarrassed boy I kissed just a second ago.

"Just wondering how you're doing," I told him. I began messing with the sheets, finding Max's glasses near the pillow. I moved them to the nightstand then continued to unfurl the sheets. I slid underneath them, trying to get Max to do the same. He eventually did, but moved further away from me on the mattress.

Max let out a small sigh, sounding more tired than annoyed or defeated. I turned over in bed to look at him, and he rudely turned _away _from me. I wormed my way over to him, knowing the only way he could get away from me was if he decided to throw himself off the bed. He didn't, and this allowed me to loop an arm around his chest, pushing my face into his neck.

"I'm _very _glad you're here," I murmured.

And, boy, was I ever. His scent, his lithe body, the taste of his lingering saliva in my mouth—it was all too fantastic. I smiled widely, making my cheek stroke his shoulder. As much as I had thought about it time and time again, I was now unable to vividly think about actually being inside this boy. If _this _simple wank had been this remarkable, more would be mind-blowing to the extent of an ethereal hallucination. I breathed out heavily, closing my eyes and thinking about what else I could lure this boy into doing with me.

**End of Part Three**


	4. Part Four

**Part Four**

_-Max-_

I had been awake for several minutes. I was completely still, lying on my side and not saying a word even as I felt Harley turn in his sleep. I was clueless as to what to do, more clueless than I had been last night with him on top of me. I wasn't even sure if I _was_ supposed to do anything right now.

I felt so odd. Here I was, lying in the same bed as Harley, him having done so many strange things last night, things that made no sense, and yet, were somehow completely familiar to _him_. In just one day, he had done some of the most corrupt things to me, having made me climax inside his mouth after I swam, then touching me as he, too, was naked and erect just last night. And, then, there was the way he touched me in other places. The thought of having actually enjoyed _that_ disgusted me now.

Harley had been so insistent on the two of us doing it all, too. Worst of all, I had _let him _and had come to his room knowing it was probably what he wanted. When we fought at the end of the forest, he had even outright suggested he wanted to "have fun." None of our activities seemed wrong until after it was all over, and that frustrated me. Being caught up in the moment didn't even begin to describe it.

I thought I had enough courage in me to make him stop, because honestly, how were his actions anything besides indecent? Harley himself had called it obscene, but I wasn't sure he meant that in a negative way, since he seemed to want me to do corrupt things _with him_. I felt a chill run through my body at the thought of having enjoyed what Harley did. It just didn't seem normal! Harley justified it by saying there was nothing to be ashamed of, but when I felt this humiliated, I couldn't believe him.

I wondered once again if May ever came anywhere close to having been this intimate with someone. Drew and her had been together for a rather long time, and it was reasonable question. I was curious, but I didn't want to think about it, honestly. Thinking about May with a guy disturbed me and even got me a bit worked up. She seemed so proper in terms of that kind of stuff, seemingly turned off by it because she had never really struck me as being the type to be interested. Maybe I just assumed that because she was my sister, but it wasn't that I was disgusted by _the thought _of her _in_ those kind of activities; I just didn't want her to_ be _involved in those kind of activities.

When I felt Harley stir once more, I became more self-conscious. I was suddenly aware I was naked and very close to the man's body. I could even feel the heat coming from it, and because of the thin sheets, his breathing was rather apparent, too.

Slowly, I moved away, sliding towards the end of the bed and managing to place my right foot on the floor. I stepped completely off and gathered my clothing from the floor, nervously throwing it onto my body in a rush. When I was finished, I grabbed my glasses and tiptoed into the bathroom. There, I examined myself in the mirror, realizing how drained and untidy I appeared. I tried my best to straighten out my hair just before I washed my face with a simple splash of water.

I felt and looked better, but I still had a bit of discomfort rising into my mind, knowing Harley was in the other room, sleeping. Well, _hopefully_ he was asleep. Some part of me feared that he was pretending, but I saw no real reason he'd want to avoid me like that. Admittedly, if Harley had awakened while I was still lying down, _I _would'vekept my eyes shut and played to be in a deep sleep.

When I walked out of the bathroom—putting on my glasses as I did so—I went into the living room. The slivery light of dawn shone through the window curtains and was spread out across the entire room. It made the room look bare and lonely. I suddenly _felt _lonely, but I had no intention of returning to the bedroom with Harley.

I actually had somewhere to go. It was just after eight o'clock and was just the right time to go to the Gym. Now was probably _the best time_, but I almost felt like I couldn't leave the hotel. I knew I physically could and had every right, but it felt wrong to just leave Harley. I considered waiting for him to wake up, but I was too gutless to face him now, and I knew just walking out would be a lot easier for me. But, still, it seemed rude.

On the coffee table, there was a complimentary notepad and pen with the hotel's name and logo. I bent down in front of the piece of furniture, beginning to write out a short note to Harley. When I was done, I ripped the individual sheet off the pad and placed it in the middle of the table. The note read:

_I went to challenge Morty._

I stared at it for a while, not satisfied. It seemed short and ill-hearted, a complete dismissal of Harley's hospitality for letting me stay here last night, regardless of _why_ he might've wanted me to stay. I sighed and quickly added to it:

_I'll be back, okay?_

I wasn't sure why I wrote it. Was it true? I saw no reason for the two of us to continue hanging around, especially after I earned my badge. But, even now, there was no reason. Harley had tried to lie about never visiting the Tin Tower, a way of making me feel bad and allowing him to come with me. Obviously, he _wanted _to be around me, and whether or not that was because he wanted something… more… it still felt nice to have someone care that much.

For a moment, a flicker of weirdness ran through my mind: the thought of still being with Harley in the next town. It was just plain frightening that I allowed myself to think that way, as if I _wanted_ him to be around. I mean, I didn't! There was no way I could want him around because he was weird, and I still felt like he was manipulating me on some level.

All my humiliated feelings began forming again, and I was fed-up. I grabbed my bag, putting it on a single shoulder and quietly walking out of the room. I made it down to the lobby, smelling various breakfast foods coming from the lounge. Even though the combination of spices and fried ingredients _smelt _delicious, I wasn't hungry. I didn't feel as if I lost my appetite, but I felt full as if I had just eaten a meal. Aside from the crowd around the lounge, the lobby was quite vacant. A group of people stood at the main desk, either checking in or out.

When I stepped outside, I discovered it was actually quite cold out. It was still early in the morning, and the chilly breeze was likely to go on until around noon. I glanced over at the Tin Tower, which looked shiny and surprisingly bright compared to how it appeared last night. It looked empty, though. In fact, the whole town was pretty sparse, save for the teahouse. I wondered why Harley hadn't shown any interest in visiting there, since aside from alcohol, he had penchant for tea. I wouldn't have minded going there, actually. I heard the owners had the complete evolutionary forms of Eevee.

Sighing, I pushed the thoughts aside and continued to walk through the city. Towards the very back of the town was the Gym. I became more and more excited as I walked, contemplating using Kirlia and Murkrow, and perhaps Stantler, if it became necessary. I didn't have a chance to train him or anything, but he still looked strong and capable of defeating a Ghost Pokémon.

I reached the Gym quickly, having jogged most of the way out of excitement. The structure almost resembled my house and the Gym back home, being very traditional and modestly plain. Some of the Gyms I had visited (a perfect example being Wattson in Hoenn) were extravagant and gaudy, so I appreciated the simple look of this one. Now, I was _hyped_. I ran the rest of the way to the front entrance, throwing open the doors in a jovial style.

Inside, there was a small front desk and various decorations, including a large painting of a Suicune. I examined the painting for several minutes, looking at how the creature's head was perched and its front legs extended far in front of itself. For a brief second, I wished Harley were here with me so I could say something about the painting out loud. I had always thought like this, wishing I had a traveling companion, simply so I could talk to them. Usually, it was May who came to mind, but since I had been around Harley the last few days, I figured that's why he popped into my head first.

"May I help you?"

I turned around to see a blonde-haired man standing there. It was Morty. I had seen enough photos of the man, and unlike some Gym Leaders, he looked exactly the same as he did in pictures. I pursed my lips and tried my best to smile. I had never been particularly good around strangers, but I at least thought I did a fine job pretending to be comfortable.

"Hi," I greeted. "My name's Max, and I would like to challenge you to a battle."

Morty gave an odd blink before his lips spread out into a smile, and he nodded energetically. "Certainly. To be honest, I haven't been challenged in over a week."

"Really?" I wondered, quite surprised. "That's weird."

Morty shrugged. "I think it's because of the weather we've been having."

I nodded and then changed the subject back by saying, "I already have four badges, so this will make my fifth."

The blonde man laughed, as if he was used to statements like mine. "That is, of course, if you win."

I grinned at him with determination, feeling very much like Ash all of the sudden. Morty began walking towards another area of the Gym, motioning me to follow. As we walked, I thought about asking about Ash, knowing he had been to this Gym. I didn't always do this with Leaders, but Morty seemed like the type of guy to remember a lot.

"You battled with Ash Ketchum, didn't you?" I asked.

Morty automatically turned to me, seeming to brighten up. "Ash?" he echoed. "Yes, I remember him quite well."

I blinked, but smiled right away. "Really? He's a friend of mine."

"Ash is a phenomenal trainer, that's for sure," Morty stated with complete assurance. "He told me he saw the legendary Ho-Oh."

Appearing to go off in a reminiscent thought, I said anyway, "Yes, he told me about that, too."

"That was almost five years ago when I met Ash. He's easy to remember because, well, he helped me out with some trouble here in town. How is he, do you know?"

"Yeah, he's fine," I informed the Leader. "He's in Sinnoh right now."

Morty and I reached the back of the Gym, which was a large battlefield, complete with an automatic score board, which was actually turned off at the moment. There was a small pedestal underneath it, and I guessed was for the judge. There was no one there now, but I was quite all right with that. I just wanted to battle, and judges were not a part of any regulations.

The man stopped when we entered. "This will be a three-on-three battle. How does that sound, Max?" He turned to me and waited for an answer.

Morty's stare actually made me uncomfortable. For some reason, I had a feeling he could see right through me and was completely aware of all the personal issues I was having with May, with Harley, maybe even my parents, too. I was definitely embarrassed now, thinking he knew what I had done with Harley last night. Even worse, I feared he could even read my very thoughts! It was anxiety at its worse, but Morty's almost deadpanned stare truly had me paranoid.

"T-That's… fine with me," I answered.

"Good to know," the blonde man said, then went off to walk to his side of the arena.

I walked over to my small outlined box, too, digging into my backpack on the way and grabbing Murkrow's Pokéball.

"The judge isn't here, so I hope that's all right with you," Morty explained from the other side of the arena.

"Yes, it's fine," I replied, loud enough for him to hear.

"All right, then," Morty said, grabbing a Pokéball from his belt. He positioned himself correctly, throwing the ball dramatically as he yelled, "_Go_!"

Bursting out of the ball was a floating black and purple creature, one I had seen several times before: Gastly. Its sharp white fangs intensified its mean grin, and I subsequently followed suit and threw out Murkrow's Pokéball. Murkrow did not flinch at the grainy grin on Gastly, either not noticing or not being intimidated. Murkrow just flew about, shifting from the right to the left in the air as he prepared for the battle.

"Let's begin!" Morty shouted, substituting as the judge.

I clenched one fist and then extended my free arm towards the battlefield as I ordered, "Astonish!"

Morty's brow, just visible below his blue headband, creased just a bit, knowing that my Dark-type would prove to be a bit difficult to beat against his Ghost. Nonetheless, he kept a confident smile and countered my attack with, "Confuse Ray!"

Murkrow's attack hit first, a ball of black and gray slamming onto Gastly's pale form in an exploding blast. Gastly grunted, but flew higher, its mouth open with a continual smile that just wouldn't go away. I was almost reminded of Harley, who never really stopped giving me smirks and grins and smiles. Ugh.

"Lick!" Morty yelled.

Murkrow flapped its wings powerfully, trying its best to avoid Gastly who floated quickly over and began circling around him. Murkrow dodged the Gastly's first Lick, gliding downwards and landing on the battlefield. Gastly followed, managing to get extremely close.

"Murkrow, use Peck!"

Murkrow extended its neck and gave a quick thrust of its beck. He missed when Gastly swooped away, ending up getting its tongue on Murkrow's back and giving it a gross, slimy graze of the tongue. Murkrow made a noise of both pain and disappointment. Thrown off, Murkrow hit the ground roughly, barely landing on its thin feet.

"Good job," Morty applauded to his Gastly. "Now, use Curse!"

Instead of following Murkrow near the ground, Gastly floated up in the middle of the arena. Its form shuddered all of the sudden, and the ghost howled in pain as its body lit up in some strange pink glow. The pink light then slashed onto Murkrow, but my Pokémon did not even flinch. Instead, Gastly fell to the ground, completely knocked out.

"W-What?" I exasperated, completely confused.

Morty smiled and reclaimed the Pokéball from his belt, returning his Gastly. "Looks like you won this round," he admitted smoothly. He then took another ball and threw it into the arena. "Go, Haunter!"

The Pokémon growled, even before the red faded from the Pokéball's light, ready for battle. Its limp hands curled, crawling at the air to appear fierce.

Still confused on what happened with Gastly, I tried to remember what Curse did. My brain was fried, too _stunned _by having won the first round to be able to recall anything about the attack. I bit my lip, suspicious, but went ahead and ordered Murkrow to use, "Pursuit! Hurry!"

Murkrow returned into the air. The Haunter, who was definitely stronger looking than Morty's Gastly, took no time floating—or, really, soaring—towards Murkrow, laughing in its creepy way and just circling around Murkrow in a taunting sort of way. Intimidated, Murkrow did not attempt to land an attack, and instead, just watched its foe taunt him before suddenly glowing with that familiar pink light and hitting the floor.

Completely taken aback by its sudden loss of energy and strength, Murkrow grunted softly in pain, unable to get up.

"Murkrow…!" I gasped, and then it hit me. I remembered what Curse did to Pokémon. I let out a frustrated groan, feeling pretty retarded for not having recalled Murkrow to avoid the effect.

Morty laughed, but it wasn't malicious. "You don't seem very surprised now," he commented.

I sighed, adjusting my glasses in a nervous fit and admitted, "Well, I was too caught up in the victory to even _remember _what Curse does."

Morty shook his head. "Not a good thing to happen to a trainer."

I felt discouraged and insulted at the same time. I gritted my teeth, recalling Murkrow and grabbing Kirlia's Pokéball. "Come on, Kirlia!" I called out, throwing the ball.

Kirlia, the strongest in my team, would normally be saved for last, but I didn't want to risk anything with using Stantler, especially since Murkrow had just fainted. I pushed in my lips in a nervous uncertainty, watching as Haunter's thick fingers tapped around in the air as if Morty and it were waiting for _me _to make the first move. So, I did.

"Kirlia, Confusion!"

Kirlia eyes lit up but did not release the attack just yet. She waited then bounced up, attempting to get closer to Haunter and spurting the bright attack onto Haunter. But, when it hit Haunter, the Pokémon didn't even seem to _feel it_. I furrowed my brow, watching as Morty's expression stayed unreadable.

"Haunter, Confuse Ray!"

Haunter cackled in its own gargled way, emitting circular blue globs that surrounded Kirlia for several seconds before disappearing into her body. Kirlia began to stumble, unable to balance herself. Now confused, Kirlia ended up falling backwards.

"Get up, Kirlia," I pleaded in an assuring tone. "You can shake it off!"

Kirlia listened, determined to stay in this battle for a while.

Just as she did, though, Haunter flew by her, and Morty yelled, "Shadow Punch!" and Haunter's fist slammed into the side of Kirlia's head, sending her right back onto the ground.

"No!" I yelled, watching as Kirlia struggled to get up again. "Kirlia, you can do it—come on!"

Haunter circled her again, and I could sense another Shadow Punch coming her way. Morty seemed confident, though it lacked snobbery, and I was glad for that. Nothing was more frustrating than an opponent making you feel stupid with their cockiness.

Kirlia stood, finally, but Haunter was coming towards her again. I tightened my fist and yelled, "_Teleport_!"

Kirlia _just missed _the incoming punch, appearing at the far end of the arena, near Morty. Successful with avoiding that, I knew I had to get Kirlia to attack in a way that wouldn't fry up her mind more than it already was thanks to the Confuse Ray.

"Haunter, Sludge Bomb!"

A Poison attack wouldn't have made anything better, so I quickly mustered up all the hope I had and ordered, "Magical Leaf!"

Kirlia's expression was flustered and sickly, but she clumsily dodged the sludge that splattered near her and twirled around to let out her power. The multi-colored leaves flourished throughout the room, twisting and spinning around Haunter so there was no way to avoid the attack. The leaves shot towards Haunter, hitting its body cluster by cluster and causing the ghost to weakly fall to the ground.

"Haunter, don't let that knock you out," Morty encouraged.

Haunter listened to the assurance and reclaimed its position in the air, still looking drained and weak. This was a good thing for me, however, and I knew that if Kirlia continued to think through the Confusion, she could knock Haunter out with a last attack.

"Okay, Kirlia," I shouted, "Future Sight!"

Kirlia concentrated the best she could, sensing the next attack from Haunter.

Morty tried to avoid this prediction by saying, "Haunter, you know what to do!"

And, apparently, Haunter did, though it tried its best not to let onto what it was going to do. I saw its fist twitch for a moment, and I knew then that it was planning on another Shadow Punch. Kirlia would know this, too, and I smiled, proud that I managed to catch onto the next attack.

Haunter floated towards her in a rush, but Kirlia, very aware of the attack, teleported away and used its countering Future Sight. Haunter was taken aback, and the attack landed directly onto the creature, sending it flying backwards and hitting the wall near Morty.

"Damn!" Morty cursed lowly, though I still heard it. He sighed and turned around to return Haunter. "Well, Max, I'm quite surprised you beat my Haunter," he told me through a grin.

Coming from my opponent so early on was rare, but I accepted the compliment. Before I could respond, though, I became distracted by Kirlia's grunt. Not having snapped out of her confusion, I decided it was best to recall her just as Morty threw his final Pokéball into the arena. Just as I suspected, it was a Gengar. Large and completely wicked looking, I was fearful that Stantler wouldn't be able to have the easiest time beating it. I still had faith in my new Pokémon, though, and so I grabbed Stantler's Pokéball and threw it.

"Gengar, I'm counting on you!" Morty told his Pokémon.

The creature replied with a nod to its trainer. Its expression even softened as he looked at Morty.

Stantler's hoofs clicked loudly on the arena floor as the creature paced about calmly, knowing it was in a Gym Battle. I had spoken to Stantler when I was at the Center last night, much like I did to all the new Pokémon I caught. Stantler seemed to warm up to me quickly, and I knew he would give it his all in this battle.

"Stantler," I called, "Psychic!"

Despite the fact the attack would be powerful against the Gengar, I couldn't help feeling transparent for how I was going to use Stantler in the battle. Stantler was a Normal-type Pokémon, and its limited Psychic powers would end up being a disadvantage.

"Gengar, Lick!"

Gengar moved fast. The creature ran, going from right to left continuously before it jumped onto Stantler's back, making my Pokémon jump in surprise. Stantler tried shaking off Gengar, but was stilled when Gengar licked its back and then jumped away. I could tell Stantler felt the worst of the attack because he trembled harshly, more than Murkrow had before.

"Stantler, Psychic!" I repeated, my Pokémon not having the chance to attack before.

"Shadow Ball, hurry!" Morty voiced. His body seemed rigid, sensing he could possibly lose but still retaining confidence in himself and Gengar.

Both attacks emitted at the same time, though Stantler's Psychic traveled slower than the dark spheres from Gengar. Colliding, both our Pokémon felt the remaining tremors. Gengar turned away, hiding its face from the explosion as Stantler lowered his head and let the attack hit its antlers.

"Astonish!" I ordered.

Stantler galloped closer to Gengar, making sure to move in various directions to avoid his opponent from trying anything head-on. At good distance, Stantler's antlers lit up and emitted the powerful blast of Astonish, hitting Gengar and making it slide back as it tried to stay on its feet.

"Dream Eater!" Morty shouted.

Stantler, still so close to Gengar, flew all the way back when the ghost's powerful and painful attack radiated onto the arena in a spectacular combination of purple and gray. Stantler fell on his side, automatically revealing defeat.

I let out a heavy sigh, disappointed more in myself for not having trained Stantler at all. I felt like I had another reason to be sort of hostile and moody towards Harley for having, well, distracted me from anything last night. I became very red, feeling like Morty could sense my thoughts again. I recalled Stantler, switching to Kirlia's Pokéball.

"I know you're tired, but I know you can do it," I quietly voiced, then releasing her onto the arena.

Gengar growled, seeing Kirlia was tired. Luckily, I could sense Kirlia's confusion had worn off, which was a definite pro in having her battle Morty's strongest Pokémon. I smiled at Kirlia, knowing that she would give it her all even through her exhaustion.

"Kirlia, use Double Team!"

Kirlia's form multiplied, not only surrounding Gengar, but also spreading out throughout the field. Gengar routinely searched for the real one, but could not narrow it down.

"Gengar, Hypnosis!"

"Kirlia, _quick—_use Magical Leaf!"

The real Kirlia—located smack in the middle of the field—rapidly spun around and around, letting the leaves float around before stabbing at Gengar just as its eyes lit up, readying to put Kirlia to sleep. But, the slam of the many leaves stopped and distracted him from continuing the Hypnosis. The ghost fell forward, but recovered as fast as it could.

"Don't let it put you to sleep!" I warned Kirlia. "Use Confusion!"

Gengar was attempting to emit hypnotic sleep waves, but Kirlia's blast once again stopped it, even hitting harder than the Magical Leaf. Gengar groaned in pain, but remained on its feet with a cocky grin.

"Try your Dream Eater again!" Morty suggested orderly.

"Teleport, then use Psychic!"

Our Pokémon were ready to attack at the same time, but Gengar was too slow, and Kirlia teleported to him, using her Psychic in full power. The bright and colorful attack hit Gengar at close range, making the ghost twirl dizzily around in circles before hitting the ground in a loud _thump-_sound. Completely unconscious, Gengar just lied on the floor, defeated.

"Y_eee_s!" I cheered in triumph. I threw my right arm up in a victorious gesture, and Kirlia came to my side to join my happiness. I kneeled down, embracing the small Pokémon. "Thank you so much, Kirlia!"

Morty recalled Gengar and approached me with a smile. "Max, that was quite impressive."

"Thank you," I said, getting back to my feet. "But, I need to train my Stantler more. I just caught him yesterday."

"I would've never known. He put up a nice fight." The blonde man looked up at the clock above the door we came through. "This battle ended just in time, too."

"Why is that?" I wondered.

"I have a class to teach," he explained, gesturing for us to walk out of the arena.

"A class?" I further questioned. "On what?"

"On Ghost Pokémon," he told me. "I hold them once a week. If you want, you can stay for it."

We began to walk, Kirlia at my side. I was very curious about the class, but surprisingly, I very much wanted to go back to the hotel and brag to Harley about my victory. I was actually disappointed in myself, since it was unlike me to pass up the opportunity to learn more about Pokémon. Despite my disgruntled conscience, I answered:

"I have somewhere to go, but thank you—it means a lot that you'd allow me."

Morty nodded in understanding. We reached the main entrance, and Morty went behind the small counter and grabbed a red case. He placed it on the counter and opened it. "You earned your Fog Badge, that's for sure," he said, taking out a small, grayish blue badge and handing it to me.

I took the badge and examined it with pride and happiness. There were two white ovals of eyes on the blobby figure of what resembled a ghost. "Thanks!" I said once again, then bent down a little to show Kirlia.

She beamed happily, very proud of herself, as she should've been. I patted her head, then dug into my backpack and grabbed her Pokéball along with my badge case.

"You deserve to rest," I told her, recalling her into the ball. I then looked up at Morty and said, "Thanks for battling me." I placed the badge into my case and tucked it away into my bag.

"My pleasure, Max. Good luck in your next battle."

I nodded in response, walking out of the Gym with a huge smile on my face. I couldn't believe I won! It felt so fantastic, and I was so eager to tell someone. I decided to call my parents when I spotted a sign that read _Phone _hung on a pole near the teahouse. I was surprised they'd advertise something like that at such a traditional place, but I supposed it didn't matter. I dashed up the steps leading to the teahouse, skipping many at a time to try and get to the top quicker.

I spent some time catching my breath at the top and then readjusting my glasses. I walked slowly towards the first entrance, passing a dewy path, which was curvy and outlined by stones. The entire environment was a large garden, complete with an artificial pond and a bench and wooden awning where a couple sat, chatting lowly. There were several structures of stone shrines scattered throughout the garden, but the large bamboo-made building in front of me was the main teahouse, a small square door inviting me inside.

I slowly slid the translucent _shoiji_ door open, stepping inside. To the left was a long, red mat of guests' shoes and to the left, another mat of free, unused slippers. I switched footwear quickly, then stepped up the single step and walked to the counter where a woman stood, smiling at me in a greeting. She was dressed in a light yellow kimono, her hair up in a bun and only the most delicate pats of makeup on her face.

"Hello, young man," she said cheerily. "How may we help you this morning?"

"Hi," I replied, suddenly feeling very on-spot with what the lady was asking. I felt rude for just coming here for the phone, but I didn't feel like having any tea. "I'm sort of in a hurry…" I balked as I tried to formulate a sentence.

"A hurry?" she finished for me. "We're happy to make you something to go, though it's not the most traditional way to participate in a tea ceremony." She smiled anyway.

"Oh, well, um, that's okay, I guess," I stuttered. "I was wondering, though, would I be able to use your phone?"

"Of course you may," she answered. "It's located near the changing rooms." She tilted her head only a little, gesturing towards it. "Now, what would you be interested in trying? We have some azuka tea cakes, if you want to try those."

I pursed my lips and then answered, "Um, sure I'll take some of those, if that's all right."

"Of course," she said, nodding. "I'll be back in just a few." She gave me another nod of her head, disappearing into what I guessed was the preparation room for the tea.

I walked towards the direction she gestured, entering a small hall that led to the bathrooms and changing rooms. The phone sat on a table in the middle of the hall. It was not a videophone, but I expected this anyway. I picked up the device, dialing my home number. It took several rings for someone to answer, but finally I heard the voice of Kenny:

"Hello?" he said.

"Hi, Kenny," I greeted. I hadn't talked to him in forever. "How are you?"

"Max?" he wondered. "_Hi_! I'm fine. How are _you_?"

If he only knew. Although I was fine _at the moment, _especially since I just earned my Fog Badge, I knew deep down I was still struggling to grasp the issues of Harley. There was no way I could _ever_ tell my parents—or even Kenny—about what had happened. These thoughts clouded my mind from answering Kenny right away as I thought about what they_ would _say if I had told them.

"I'm fine, too," I finally answered, hoping the pause wasn't that long. "I just earned my fifth badge."

"Fifth? That's great, Max. From where?"

"In Ecruteak. The Fog Badge."

I could just sense Kenny was smiling. "That's amazing, Max. I'm very proud of you. But, listen, if you want to speak to your parents, you're gonna have to try again later. They went out this morning to the city."

"They did?" I wondered. "Oh… Well, okay, that's fine. You can go ahead and share the news with them. I'm not sure when I'm going to have another chance to call," I explained.

"Okay, I will," he said. "But, anyway, what else has been going on?"

Once again, I had to think to myself, _if only he knew_. Or, if only I could tell him! Honestly, what would he have thought? Was it even acceptable to tell him? I even thought that maybe it was wrong to divulge that type of information, not only on the personal level of it being strictly between Harley and myself, but because I still felt what we had done was _immoral._

I sighed, and answered, "Nothing really exciting. I caught a Stantler yesterday, though."

"_That's_ exciting, though," Kenny argued happily. "It sounds like you're having a great time in Johto."

"I am," I said honestly. "I should go now, though. I'm at a teahouse."

"Oh, okay, Max," Kenny replied. "I'll talk to you later then. Have a good day."

"You, too. Bye." I hung up after his farewell and turned around to head back to the main area of the teahouse. As I walked by some of the rooms once more, I noticed the area where some of the tea ceremonies were held. There were only a few mats laid out, occupied by the few people inside. It was dead silent, too.

Back in the entrance of the teahouse, the lady was waiting with a small box wrapped in a red cloth.

"Sorry about that," I told her sincerely. "How much for this?"

The woman put a hand up and shook her head slowly. "No, no, we do not charge for this," she explained. "Only if you participate is there a fee."

I blinked. "Are you sure?" I asked. "Because I feel obligated."

"Don't," she assured. "Have a nice day."

"Thank you!" I smiled at her and took the wrapped-up box from the counter. I began walking out of the building, switching back to my shoes and going outside.

After I went down the exhaustingly long steps of stairs, I walked back towards the hotel. I had no idea what time it was, but deep down, I had a feeling Harley might have been still asleep. He had woken up before me yesterday, but I still thought Harley was the type of person to sleep his life away each day.

Inside the hotel, I made my way up the second floor, dragging my feet as I walked down the hall towards his room. I suddenly felt my heart sink with uncertainty, so unsure about how Harley was going to act when I got into the room and even further unsure about what he planned to do for the rest of the day. When I got to the door, I froze. And, since I had proven to be an absolute retard the past few days, I realized I had no key to get inside.

I grumbled, putting the back of my hand to my forehead as I sighed in annoyance. How could that have slipped my mind? I hadn't seen the cardkey anywhere, but that wasn't a good enough excuse for not having thought ahead. Now, I just felt like turning around and leaving. I had all my stuff with me; I could very well leave the city and go to Olivine or Mahogany Town. It was no problem, really. I mean, why should I even care about leaving Harley without a proper farewell anyway?

But, I couldn't get myself to do it, and I had no idea why.

So, I lifted my hand up, giving a light tap on the door with my fist before knocking harder and louder. And, strangely, it didn't take more than a second for the door to fly open and for me to see Harley standing there, dressed and tidied up. He even had his hat on, and his hair was neatly brushed.

"Maximus!" he exclaimed through a seemingly amiable smile. He even reached out, collecting me into the room by motioning in quickly.

I did so, confused by his hurried gestures. I looked around the suite, seeing nothing weird going on, and since he answered the door so fast I guessed there _was nothing_ going on. I furrowed my brow regardless, looking up to Harley in confusion.

"What's going on?" I voiced anyway.

Harley replied, "Nothing." But, then he continued, "That note of yours had me absolutely furious."

"Furious!" I repeated with shock. "How?"

"Despite what it said, I thought for certain you had no intention of coming back," he admitted.

"Oh," I said. "Well, I'm here."

Harley's mouth extended in a melted sort of smile. "That you are." His smile then flattened, and he wondered, "You didn't forget something, did you?"

I shook my head. "No, I didn't. I just… came back…" I then dug into my bag and took out my badge case. "Look," I said, pointing at the latest edition.

"Ohh!" he chirped in an exaggerated tone. "Congrats, Max." He eyed me in a familiar way, beginning to reach down to my face.

Before he touched me, I moved away, heading towards the living room and placing my bag and badge case onto the table. I then lifted up the wrapped box and said, "I have food."

Harley followed, his lips pursed in what I guessed was the result of me having moved away from his touch. He sat down on the couch, taking the box from me and unwrapping the cloth slowly. "Let's see what my Maximus brought me."

Truthfully, I hadn't brought it for him at all. I didn't even think about that. I had just taken up the offer from the lady. But, I supposed he was happier under the assumption I had brought it for him, so I didn't say anything. Instead, I cautiously sat down next to him, keeping myself a safe distance away on the other side of the couch.

"You brought me tea cakes!" he beamed, moving some of his hair away from his view. "Max, you're the sweetest."

I shrugged. "Stantler didn't do too well against Morty's Gengar," I revealed, guessing he might have been somewhat interested. "He still tried his very best, and it was impressive, but I should've spent time training him."

"Spent time? What time _did you _have last night?" He ended his inquiry with a chuckle, smiling knowingly at his own remark.

I turned red and then rolled my eyes. "Well, I need to train him," I restated.

Harley took a bite of one of the tea cakes and shrugged. "When did you wake up?" he asked after swallowing.

"Around eight," I said. "What time is it now?"

Harley shrugged again and continued to eat the small snack.

"I'm sorry I had you, um, concerned that I wasn't coming back," I told him. And, even though I hadn't been certain I was going to return, I did. And, part of me was glad because I had avoided leaving on rude and impolite terms.

The man gave me a look of resentment. "Mm, well, Maximus, I wanted very badly to wake up next to you."

I gaped, thrown off by his sudden statement. I glowed red, turning away and staring at the floor. I adjusted my glasses, unsure what to say. Was I supposed to apologize? Did he _want me _to apologize?

Harley clapped his hands together to get rid of the crumbs from the tea cake. He placed the box onto the table, still half full, and commented, "Those were good. Where did you get them?"

Having changed the subject, it didn't seem to phase Harley how embarrassed I currently was. I knew that I could probably be comfortable around Harley if he didn't insist on mentioning and alluding to the things we'd done.

"At the teahouse," I stated. "It was pretty there."

Harley nodded. "Yes, I've been." He placed his feet onto the table then slung an arm behind the back of the couch, turning towards me. "What do you want to do now, Max?"

"I… um, I…" I began answering right away, but quickly stopped myself. I had no idea what he was suggesting, if anything at all. I sucked in my bottom lip and narrowed my eyes. "I earned my badge. There's not much else I want to do. I don't really care about the Tower."

Harley lifted his eyebrows. "You don't? I thought for sure you would."

"I don't care _that much,_" I clarified further. "We don't have to do anything at all, though."

"I like the sound of that, Max."

Why did he have to say my name so much? It was either "Max" or "Maximus," and truthfully, both were pretty disturbing coming from him. I didn't even want to begin to think about what I had gotten myself into by insisting we didn't have to do anything, because that meant being in the room all day with Harley… and I wasn't sure what that would lead to at all…

"Is something wrong?" he asked after a long period of silence.

_And, why _did he always ask that when the answer was so clear already? Of course there was something troubling me; _of course_ I was still confused and unsure and so embarrassed about everything. Harley, the more experienced of us, was either _so _experienced that he forgot what it was like to be in my state of mind, or he didn't care. Maybe even both. Worst of all, there was no way I could open up and share what I was feeling, because it _mortified_ me. I had shared some of the issues I was having with May, yes, but I didn't go too far into it. And, this—him and I—was a subject completely different and far more personal and embarrassing to talk about. And, I only wished I had the courage to tell him that.

Sighing, I gave a small shrug of the shoulders and began with, "It's still weird."

"What, _us_?" He smacked his lips together. "I can't help you with that."

I looked up at him immediately, furrowing my brow as I glared at him. "How can you say that? You're the one… doing things!"

Harley chuckled, putting a hand to his mouth like some chortling king. "Things that _you _aren't stopping." He then gave an annoyed look. "Look, we've been down this road. What more can I tell you?"

"A lot," I insisted. "For one, you can tell me _why _you decided to do any of it."

I could tell my vague wording amused Harley. But, it made it easier for me to talk, and I wasn't going to complicate it by being descriptive. Still, the man kept giving me a dead look, one that was uninterested in the conversation.

"I like you," he stated matter-of-factly and slightly on-edge. "You're sweet and cute, and I can't believe—"

"—how much I look like my dad?" I finished for him.

Harley waved a hand in dismissal. "Well, it is intriguing, but no. I see _Max, _not Norman."

"How can I believe you?" I demanded. "You're still the same guy who tricked my sister and tried sabotaging so many of her Contests! I should've never allowed this to go so far!"

The man's expression flattened again. "You can believe me because if I goddamn wanted to, I could go into your little hometown and seduce your father like _that_,"—he snapped his fingers in sync with his words—"but instead I'm interested in you, because you're a fucking tart, and you really have no idea how that affects me."

I suddenly felt very ridiculous and inferior. He was basically _yelling at _me, and what he had said was just disturbing. My father would never even consider having a relationship with a man, let alone _Harley. _And, what had he called me? A tart? What on earth was that?

"My dad doesn't like men. My dad isn't like _you_," I decided to say.

"Or, like you?" he quipped.

I clenched my fist, embarrassed and unnerved. "I told you already that I'm not…"

"That you did, and yet it didn't seem to stop you from letting us go a step further last night, now did it?" His eyes widened to emphasize how great he thought his point was, and he even smiled at me. Just a second ago he was angry.

"You—"

He cut me off, saying, "No, you're _not _going to blame me either. You were a willing participate, and I have a dirty tissue of your jizz to prove it."

"Stop talking like that!" I asserted. "You're used to all of this. I'm not."

"We can make you used to it."

I groaned, putting my face in my hands, horrified by how easily I was beaten in this game and unwilling to even try further. "I think I hate you," I said, but geez, did it lack force.

Harley laughed amusingly. "Like I said, Max, you have no idea how you affect me."

While I didn't know for certain what that meant, I had my suspicions, and it bothered me. Was it really me who made him act so lechery? I never really considered _I _caused it. I didn't want to; at least that's what I thought. I mean, I was already so uncomfortable with what we had done, and if it was _me_ who was provoking him to want it, wasn't this all my fault? My mind was fogged and crowded with thoughts.

"Don't be ashamed!" he then stated with mirth. He slapped my back playfully, but it sort of hurt. "I've never wanted a kid your age. So, you're special."

I became jittery with nerves again, fidgeting and fretful. _Kid. _He still thought I was a kid, and although it was true, did that mean that's all he saw in me? Was I not a successful and independent Pokémon trainer, too? Did he have _any admiration _for me being out on my own? It was obvious Harley had quite the list of past… companions… and though that was beginning to bother me, I was curious to know whether he was treating me differently than anyone from the past. I wanted to ask, but I had no idea how to approach the subject.

"Listen, Harley," I voiced. "Maybe we should go and do something here." I said this because I didn't want to be stuck in here all day with him, and also, I knew there had to be _something _we could do.

"I have an idea," he proposed, "and I'm sure you'll like it because you're desperate to go out and train your little what's-its-name. How about a rematch from the other day?"

"A rematch? You mean, you want to battle again?" I watched as he nodded, putting his hand on my shoulder and stroking the edge of my collarbone. "Okay, I don't see why not."

"Then let's go," he excitedly said, grabbing my arm and pulling me up.

When I got to my feet, he purposely made sure I banged into him, my chest hitting his side. He kept me there, not letting me move by putting a single arm around me, basically forcing me into an embrace. I was too startled to move. It wasn't a hug; it was more of a possessive claim. He kneeled down in front of me, rubbing my back with his open palm. I felt his lips linger around the side of my face, his breath hitting me and making some of my hair move.

"Harley," I warned, not liking where this was going.

He chuckled, the soft laugh right near my ear. He whispered, "I hope nothing goes astray between us if I end up being victorious."

"I beat you the other day, and you didn't hold it against me," I stated.

"No, I didn't," he acknowledged. His lips pressed into my lower chin, a motionless, simple kiss that made my entire body shiver.

I was about to turn my head, slightly curious as to what would happen if _I_ let his lips touch my own. Suddenly, though, he stood up, stretching routinely and disappearing into the bedroom. He returned only a second later with his bag over his shoulder, but I hadn't even moved an inch. I watched as he opened the door and looked back at me to make sure I was coming.

xxxxx

_-Harley-_

The entire time, Max had been following me gingerly, keeping up at good pace but still behind, probably because he wanted to avoid being so close to me. It was indeed insulting, and in many ways, hurtful, but I didn't say anything. The boy was having a bundle of issues, most of which I had no control over. I mean, at this point, what could be he confused about? It couldn't be more obvious that he craved my attention, otherwise he wouldn't still be with me, let alone have come back to the hotel this morning.

As we walked outside, heading towards the secluded, more wooded area of the city, I could hear Max's shoes scraping against the dirt. Now he was dragging his feet. It didn't take long to reach a shaded, incredibly green and shrubby area, which was close to where Max and I had our spiff the previous day.

"How about here?" I voiced, gesturing around the side of the forest.

Max had his arms folded, looking delightfully precious with his backpack on and his lips pursed. He shrugged and said, "It's fine."

I placed my bag on the ground, taking out Wigglytuff's ball and smiling at Max thoughtfully. "Seems we're not the only couple training," I noted, pointing towards the inner area of the forest where several people were having battles with each other.

"Couple?" the boy mimicked. But, he then shook his head, discarding the comment.

Max didn't seem too enthusiast about this battle, but he started preparing himself anyway, taking out a Pokéball from his backpack as he walked a good distance away from me so our Pokémon could battle. Obviously, something was on his mind, and really, as he walked away, his back towards me, seeming so melancholy, it sort of appeared as if he were leaving me, or something. I had been under the strong assumption he left this morning, and while I had been angry about it, I knew that in given time, I would have become despondent. No one had ever done something like that; no one had actually left me. And, of all people to leave, Max would've been the most upsetting, because I hadn't even had the chance to claim the boy the way I wanted! And, fuck, he wasn't going anywhere until I did.

I gave a confident grin when the boy turned to face me. I placed a hand on my hip, making sure Max caught the gleam in my eye, there especially for _him. _I couldn't see his reaction well, but I made the logical assumption he rolled his eyes at me. Afterwards, though, he threw the ball, letting the creature inside land in the distance between us. His Stantler, who looked remarkably well rested despite its battle with Morty, appeared and lowered its head, showing off its antlers. I copied Max, letting Wigglytuff out. Both Pokémon gave looks that revealed they were ready for battle.

"I hope you're okay from this morning," Max said to Stantler.

The thing looked bloody fine, geez, Max. In many ways, I could tell Max was reluctant to start the battle, and it surprised me that I was more eager than him. Since he didn't seem like the kind of lad to be tired after one battle, I suspected his reluctance was due to _me_. Again, I was insulted, and I decided Max and I needed to have another talk after the battle.

I tucked some hair behind my ear. "Any day now," I urged, offering him the first move.

I could hear Max sigh all the way over in my direction. "Fine," he mumbled. Then, much more enthusiastically, "Stantler, start with Sand Attack!"

His Stantler kept his head lowered, scraping its hooves back and forth against the dirt, collecting it up and making a dusty display around its body as it increased its attempted to lower Wigglytuff's defense. Wigglytuff waited patiently for my order, but I continued to watch Stantler standing there with a serious expression on its face.

"Okay, Wigglytuff, Rollout!" I suggested, pointing in the direction of dear ole Stantler.

Wigglytuff tightened her body into a ball, proceeding to rolling about the dirt, underneath Stantler's legs, around Stantler's body, until it had the poor thing confused and sneaked up behind it and slammed into its back legs.

Max clenched his fist and shouted, "Stantler, Stomp, hurry!'

Stantler was quick, moving its hoof up and stomping down onto Wigglytuff's body, stopping my poor baby in her tracks and forcing it to unroll. Wigglytuff flipped back onto her feet, her long ears flowing in the sudden gust of wind.

"Doubleslap!" I yelled.

"Tackle!" Max countered.

Our Pokémon were hesitant as we both called our attacks at the same time. Stantler made the first move, rushing towards Wigglytuff but sadly missing when the pink creature jumped up and began slapping it in the face with her ears. Stantler growled in pain, somehow managing to buck its head upwards, its antlers making direct contact with Wigglytuff's head. Wigglytuff grunted, sliding on the ground, away from Stantler.

"Take Down!" Max demanded.

And, Stantler was stomping its fat feet towards my little Wigglytuff. Wigglytuff had recovered quickly, now displaying her angry, dark expression to both Max and Stantler. I'd have to chide her for looking at Maximus like that, but I suppose she had good intentions at the moment.

"Sing!" I proclaimed firmly.

Wigglytuff's voice was heard in an instant, but she moved around to avoid Stantler approaching, still managing to direct her attack on it specifically. It took a while to affect, but Wigglytuff did not give up, and eventually, Stantler stopped in its tracks, falling on its side, snoring.

"That was cheap!" Max shouted at me from across the field.

I gave a confused expression, letting my eyes sparkle with innocence. "All's fair in love and war," I recited for him. Then, more seriously, "It's a fucking attack, Maximus."

"Stantler, _wake up_!" he coaxed as loud as he could, his vocal cords incapable of reaching a very high level. "Come on, wake up!"

"Wigglytuff, Body Slam!"

Wigglytuff readied herself by inflating her body and running over to the sleeping creature. She slammed all her weight onto the Stantler causing a startled screech from the thing before its eyes fell back and it went unconscious. The battle was over, and I had won.

A haughty, thick grin extended onto my lips, and I gave myself a well-deserved cheer. Wigglytuff deflated herself, hobbling over to me for some ego-stroking. I spent a fair amount of time priding her, rubbing her ears and cooing at her darling little pink self before I returned her into her ball. I then stood, watching as Max disdainfully returned his Stantler. He looked royally pissed.

"Maximus," I began, slinking my bag over my shoulder, "don't be a sore loser."

"Ha," he sarcastically spewed. "Maybe when I see you listen to your own advice."

"_Excuse me_," I groaned at him, "did I not handle my _loss_ the other day fairly well?"

Max considered this, but continued to give a displeased look. "At this rate, Stantler's never going to get stronger," he muttered, walking towards a grassy and clean area of the forest and sitting down in a fit.

Although childish, I was amused, and in so many corrupt ways, intrigued. He could be so darling sometimes. I chuckled lowly and followed him over to the smooth grassland, sitting down carefully next to him. I placed my bag back on the ground and told him:

"Don't be silly, Maximus. All Pokémon need a little training."

"Stantler are supposed to have high attack power," he acknowledged.

"Well, yours is tough," I admitted. "I'm sure things would've been different if my Wigglytuff didn't use Sing."

Max groaned and switched to sitting cross-legged so he could rest his elbows on his knees and lean his head into his palms. He muttered, "I still think it was cheap."

I laughed at his ironically bitter attitude, very surprised to see him act this way. After all the times he chided _me _on holding a grudge about losing to his sister, he was acting the same way towards me. I guess the two of us were more alike than I realized, and I was glad. So glad, in fact, that I couldn't help but wrap an arm around the boy, pulling him close to me.

Max did not fight. But, he did not help me move his weight over either. When I managed to have him lean up against me, I rubbed his upper-arm with my palm spiritedly, remembering how fabulous it was to have this boy beneath me last night, _touching me._

"So, what's wrong with you?" I asked, finally deciding to prod into the issues and act like I cared about hearing and fixing them.

"Huh?" he said, boggled. When he saw my raised brow, my inquisitive look, he bit his lip.

"I'm not sure why you're so embarrassed about talking about it," I told him, still making sure I was massaging his upper-arm. "I'd like to think I was once in that wee little mindset at one point in my youth."

"Well, if that's true," Max said, half-interestedly watching the other trainers battle, "then why _don't _you know what I'm thinking?"

I shrugged. "I don't think you're very certain yourself," I pointed out. "But, I know a few things. For one, you're sort of startled by the amount of enjoyment you receive from me, but come on, Max, it can't be that surprising. I'm sure you've wanked off enough to know how things work."

I watched as Max's mouth opened to defend himself until he realized there was no point and clamped his mouth shut. Max might have been familiar with touching himself, but he wasn't familiar with touching others, and I could understand his issues there. Then again, he had been so willing to help me out last night that I wasn't sure where to stand. I also suspected he wanted to talk about _me _more than anything else, so, I kindly offered:

"Anything you want to know?" I straightened and centered my hat, waiting for him to speak.

Max turned red, looking down at the grass as he began to pick at some of it. He then looked up to make sure the battling trainers weren't watching us since I still had my arm around him. "Um, well," he started unevenly, "I was sort of wondering if _I'm _the one who made this all happen."

I patted his back now. "No, Max, don't blame yourself. Well, maybe you should, because like I said, you're one hell of a tart, but I think I might be a bit more… _noticing_ of it than others." I laughed at myself, then added, "So, if you're wondering if you make me hard, then yes, you do. Oh, you do." I exhaled whimsically.

Max became jittery, shrugging off my touch. I obliged, letting my arm fall as he continued to pick at the grass. "Sometimes I think about how old I am…" he alluded, his voice so distant.

I rolled my eyes away from his sight. He was twelve years-old, so what? Granted, he shouldn't have possessed such charms, but since he did, there shouldn't have been a problem. I didn't say this, of course, instead telling him, "There's nothing wrong with it."

"Are you sure?"

"_Yes,_" I assured eagerly. "But, are you knowledgeable of how much further this can go?"

"Further?" he mused. Then, instantly, he turned red again, and I knew he remembered what I was talking about.

Oh, how I was delighted to have my finger up his taut ass! Max had responded to it, too, and I knew he was curious about more. "Yes," I nodded, crooking my neck so my face was leveled next to his. I whispered, "It feels a lot better if you give it time."

Max's shut his eyes and blushed heavier. "And, um, I assume that means…"

I decided to save him the trouble of descriptions and just said, "Yes!"

"But, Harley, that's so unnatural and weird," he stated without hesitation.

I pursed my lips in frustration. I mumbled between my tightened mouth, managing to clearly say, "But, take it from me, it's not nearly as scary if you give it a try." I nudged him playfully, and Max became all flustered again, like the darling he was.

"I don't think I want to…"

"Pfft!" I hissed in disbelief. "It wasn't that long ago. I'm sure you remember how good it felt. Imagine if that wasn't my finger and something else of mine."

"Harley…" Max muttered, leaning his forehead into his elevated knees, embarrassed.

"Mm, what?" I wondered, grabbing his arm and pulling him to me again.

He struggled this time, seeing some trainers begin to walk back towards the city. They would eventually be passing us, but I didn't give a care in the world. I took his other arm, basically lifting him up and dragging him onto my lap.

"Harley!" he shouted, his glasses sliding off a bit. "Stop!"

I laughed continuously, watching the two girls walk by us, not really giving us a second glance since they were chatting. Max settled down after this, sinking into my lap a little. I made his head lean back as I ran my hand through his hair, then pushing up his glasses properly. Max narrowed his eyes, still feeling pretty retarded, I presumed.

"I'm so fucking glad you came back after your battle," I told him once more.

Max sighed. "What does that have to do with _this_?" he wondered, gesturing his eyes towards me roughly cradling him in my arms.

"A lot," I said. I brushed some of his dark bangs back, leaning my head down and pushing our lips together.

"Ermm!" Max grunted, pulling away. "Stop."

My expression flattened, and I roughly questioned, "Why?"

"People are around!" he declared as if I didn't know.

"So, are you saying you'd be more than willing to cooperate if we go somewhere private?"

_Fucking hell, _I could feel myself grow slightly hard at my own words. Just the thought, the notion, the idea of having my cock fill that boy's ass was just, _ahh. _I shut my eyes momentarily, simply pressing my lips on his chin.

"Can we just go now?" he asked me.

"Fine," I agreed, loosening my grip and allowing him to stand up quickly.

Max grabbed his backpack, then looked at me oddly when he noticed I had my hand extended towards him. It took a moment for it to register with the boy, but when it did, he took my hand, trying his best to lift me up. I helped, mostly, standing up and dusting off my bottom from grass debris. I then grabbed my bag and began leading the way towards the hotel.

Even as we walked, I could still feel the slouching in Max's shoulders, the continual pouting displayed by him for losing the battle. He may have lost, yes, but he was nonetheless still around me like the needy faunlet I always suspected he was. The two of us were mostly silent, and I knew Max was thinking about our most recent kiss, thinking about how public it was even without people looking at us.

When we eventually reached the hotel and got into the room, Max was quick to put down his bag and scramble over to the far side of the living room. He was looking out the window, watching the not-so animated view as a way of avoiding me in close quarters. I walked off into the bedroom, throwing off my boots and taking out a cigarette before I also threw down my bag. As I lit it, I thought about how Max's skin had felt underneath my lips maybe ten or fifteen minutes ago.

_Mmm, _Max's skin not only tasted good, it smelt good, too. He smelt so sweet and fresh, just like the way his mouth tasted. I was saddened I hadn't had the chance to slip my tongue into his mouth to _get that _taste when the boy was straddled in my lap. Right now, my mouth was filled with the smoke from the cigarette, which I let escape through my nose and out into the air.

As I turned, however, I was quite surprised to see Max standing in the doorway. He seemed like he wanted to say something to me, but he either couldn't get the words out or thought that _I should _say something first.

"What is it, Maximus?" I asked slowly.

Max's eyes narrowed, proving he wanted to speak. "I feel weird," he told me.

Curious, I raised an eyebrow and wondered, "How?"

The boy cleared his throat and continued, "I'm not sure how to say this. But, before—I mean, after, um, yesterday and the pool, I…" Max let his words trail away before he rephrased himself completely with: "When I think about… _us _and um, _things, _I feel weird."

I chuckled lowly, wondering if he was talking about being bloody aroused. It was more wishful thinking on my part since I was quite sure Max would remain embarrassed when thinking back to our two rendezvous, at least for a while. But, it wasn't out of the question to assume he could be interested all over again when he thought of us. And, why wouldn't he? The two of us were fan-fucking-tastic together.

"See," he continued on again, "I assumed it would become less strange to think about, and truthfully, it does sometimes, but, well, I dunno, I was just sort of wondering if maybe you think about it, too?"

"Max, first of all," I began, taking a drag of my cigarette as I paused, "I never thought what we did was strange. Believe me, you should be glad when you're no longer weirded out by it because that means you probably are moving past the embarrassment."

"But," he protested, "it's still _weird._ I mean, it's you and me… and before it, I never thought any of that was even possible."

He looked so goddamn cute right now, he truly did. He should've been thankful I didn't pounce on top of him the moment he finished that sentence. God, I wish I did, too. The way he creased his brow, the way his eyes widened when he emphasized on words—it was too much.

My smile widened so much, and I said to him, "Maximus, I think about the fun we had quite a bit. More than that, really. It was fabulous, and I am very interested in, well, expanding the fun as we already discussed."

"And, by that… you mean…"

I swayed my way over to him, watching as he actually came further into the room instead of backing out. "Yes, Max," I answered, kneeling to be at his height with the cigarette trapped between my lips. Normally, having to adjust my height would bother me, but for my little faunlet, I enjoyed it.

"I—" he cut himself off, and instead asked, "Will it hurt?"

My heart must have melted at this! Oh, did he ever sound more delicate and darling? I wanted to tell him that it would feel like the best goddamn thing he ever felt, and while that would eventually prove truth, I knew it would hurt my boy at first. The thought of him squirming and even possibly bleeding because of it actually made me sad. I didn't want him to think I had any intention of causing him pain, especially when my goal was for him to experience the greatest pleasure of his life.

"It might," I stated truthfully, "but, if you trust me, you'll enjoy it, _love it _even."

"Trust you?" he echoed, his tone becoming rough. "I _don't _trust you!" He busied himself by throwing off his shoes, glaring at the floor all the meanwhile.

I pursed my lips hard, unsure and terribly insulted at the same time. It didn't surprise me, though. How could it? Even after spending so much time with me, Max still felt like I had an ulterior motive. And, I didn't. My want of knowing where May was and what caused their spiff was far into the past, and what I wanted now was to, well, screw the kid.

I closed my eyes and breathed in more smoke. Still kneeling, Max's eyes were leveled with my own, and his pupils shook with uncertainty and possibly hurt, too. I wasn't sure what to say to him. I placed a hand on the slope of his neck, rubbing it with my thumb slowly.

"Why?" I asked in a serious tone.

Max was surprised by my seriousness, gaping for a moment before telling me, "Because you're older, and it's _you, _Harley."

The way he said my name killed me once more. I loved it. If only he could begin and end all his sentences with my name. "Don't worry about my age," I assured once more. "It hardly a concern. And, _me_? Well, Max, I'm sure you've been aware it's good ole Harley since the day we met again at the Center, right?" I crushed my dead cigarette against the wall, most improper like, and let it drop to the floor, not caring about staining anything with the ashes.

Max frowned, then sighed, and I was baffled when he gave me this look that was needy and almost impatient-like. His eyes even briefly fell, looking at my lips. He wanted me to kiss him. Out of the very fucking blue, he wanted my lips on his. I grinned, not even thinking twice before I pressed my lips against his, letting it widen and inviting our tongues to touch.

Max was frozen, not moving a bit. I put a hand to the back of his head, pushing him further into me as I tilted my head, allowing greater access. Max stifled a small grunt, unable to breathe. I broke the kiss, so dazed by _his want _for the kiss to even think about anything else. But, he still hadn't responded. I noticed that. The one time he responded—last night after we wanked each other silly—he had been shy and slow, but, oh, it was glorious.

"Maximus, what's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"Something's bothering you," I told him, stroking his hair through my fingers.

"So, are we…?" He didn't even finish.

I closed my eyes _tight, _knowing what he was hinting at before _I_ even had the chance to suggest. Could this be at all possible, or was I hallucinating? It was _how early _in the morning, and he was ready and willing? Oh, for goodness sake, I was becoming fully hard, and I had to control my breathing.

So close to him, I let our faces touch, kissing him gently on the side of the nose. "If you want," I whispered softly. "But, are you sure?"

Max shut his eyes. "I… think…"

He _could not _tease me like that. I would have to kill the kid if he did. But, I supposed I'd have to persuade him into it the further we got, and oh, that was awhile away. I had every intention of letting this draw out as much as possible, so I could savor just about everything.

"We'll see where it goes," I assured him, smirking.

xxxxx

_-Max-_

Harley's face leaned in, and although I was so sure I wanted to feel his lips against mine, I was frightened. I was so frightened. What was I agreeing to again? Had I even agreed to anything at all? I couldn't think.

Our mouths pressed together, and I tasted the familiarity of the man. The tobacco was very present on his tongue, metallic and hot. But, it was also wet and slippery, and I hated that. His arms slunk beneath my underarms, lifting me up just a bit so our chests touched. Harley broke the kiss, but his face remained close, the side of his head leaning into my shoulder. I felt him breathing in strongly, _smelling _me, and this made me stiffen with nervousness. But, then, I felt his tongue there, tracing around my collarbone. It felt wonderful, it truly did. And, I felt terrible for even thinking that.

I shut my eyes slowly, exhaling as I felt myself react to his touches. I felt dizzy and needy, and above all else, I could feel myself become incredibly aroused by his tongue continually licking my skin, always remaining wet and warm. His hand pressed onto my chest, sliding down to my stomach and underneath my green, long-sleeved shirt. His hand was heated, just like his tongue and his mouth and his breath.

Sliding up my ribcage and to the middle of my chest, his fingers tapped my skin in a way that made my breath quicken. He turned his head, letting his tongue glide up neck. Feeling like I was going to fall backwards, I held onto his shoulders. Harley moved away, looking at me thoughtfully and smiling.

"Mm, Max," he breathed out, "let's move this over here."

I blinked. He stood at full height, pulling me with him and pressing me against the bed with his knees. I knew he wanted me to lie down, so I did, very slowly. He crawled on top of me, his legs at both sides of my body. He began messing with the waist of my shorts, unzipping them and pulling them off. Terribly embarrassed by his hands' positions, I blushed heavily. Yet, my arousal rose exceptionally when his fingers grazed back up my thighs, pulling down my underwear and revealing just how aroused I was by all of this. It was indecent and so unlike me, but I couldn't help it.

I prepared myself to be touched, and sure enough, Harley's hand wrapped around me, agonizingly slow as his fingers contacted one by one. I scrunched up my face, controlling my body's movements and controlling any sound coming from my mouth. Where was this going to go? And, why couldn't I stop thinking about everything? Harley seemed perfectly content, so unaffected by my conflicted thoughts but so eager to touch me and make me feel good. He looked down at me, teasing my body with flicks of his fingers and grins from his face.

My thoughts stopped. His hands moved away, caressing my inner thighs by slithering up and down. He was so close to my arousal that I trembled. I was stunned when he did not fully touch me there the way he had a moment ago. I thought I did something wrong until his hand continued up, against the fabric of my shirt and to my collarbone again. He began stroking my cheeks, looking at me in a very serious way. His pupils did not move one bit, but his eyes bore into me before he leaned in and placed his lips on mine. I felt like I should respond so that I was no longer pathetically lying down motionless.

His tongue hit mine, and I allowed his to slide past before I lifted my head, sucking in air through my nose and tilting my neck to the right. Harley made some unintelligent noise in the back of his throat, pressing harder against me, teeth grazing teeth in an almost uncomfortable manner. His lower body would not touch mine, but I felt the heat and hardness lingering near my stomach, knowing it was him, still clothed. I wondered why he hadn't progressed to stripping himself more. I tugged at the back of his jacket, and he opened his eyes, breaking our kiss so he could remove the article of clothing. Before continuing, he pulled his thin, black tank-top off, too.

The man's mouth brushed against the side of my chin, and like in a hypnotic trance, I lifted my hand and touched his shoulder. He shrugged it down to his chest, and I felt my face turn red as I let my palm linger there for quite some time. I breathed in heavily, so surprised by the warmth of his skin. He grinned down at me, closing his eyes and obviously thinking of something important. This worried me, so I moved just slightly away from his body.

Then, his eyelids flung open. He stilled me right away, letting his hands drop to my hips and lift my shirt, making it bunch around my neck before pulling it all the way off. Now completely bare, I burned with self-consciousness, my breathing hitched and rough. He leaned his body against mine again, lowering our bottom-halves into contact. I made the most pathetic noise of my life, sounding so desperate and lame. The collision continued, and knowing that Harley was indeed making me feel so full of desire made me wonder whether or not he actually had more control than me. I had only expressed this kind of desire to myself, but Harley… Harley didn't make me feel _completely _stupid when I expressed it to him. And, if I was already exposing myself in the most intimate way, could I trust him?

When Harley leaned back up, removing his pants and letting the attire drop to the side of the bed, I adjusted myself, leaning my back against the two pillows to sit upright. This was the third time I had seen Harley naked. Even now, I found something new about him, and this time, it was his hipbones. They protruded finely as he rested on his knees, over my body. My eyes lingered below his hips, to his erection. I had avoided looking at it before, and even now I felt like I should have looked away. This was wrong. So wrong. My mind was suddenly telling me those things, saying that if I had any decency, I would listen and leave.

But, Harley was on top of me, and he was bigger and stronger in every which way. I was so scared of the possibility of him being _inside me. _Was that possible? And, how much would it hurt me?

Harley started to soothe me, touching my inner thigh again, letting his fingers travel nearer and nearer until he cupped his hand around me, giving me the most relaxed but lecherous smirk. Then, his hand moved, stroking all the way up my length until I let out some sort of hiss that I tried my best to silence. Harley repeated the movement, running his hand up and down at a suddenly alarming speed, using his other hand to climb up my body and fuse our mouths. I was glad to have him back on my mouth, shutting me up completely from my growing volume.

Again, I just felt pathetic, especially given the fact Harley's speed was lessening and our lower-halves were losing contact. I bit my bottom lip when he moved his mouth away, watching Harley move between my legs. He slipped his arms under my thighs, lifting up my legs. I gasped, unsure with what he was trying to do. Harley made a hushing sound, further lifting my knees by the crook of his arms. I felt ridiculous when he was through. My legs were up high, exposed and making me feel very unattractive. How could Harley _look _at me like this? Moreover, how could he grin and appear even more pleased?

"Max…" Harley purred out. "Relax, okay?"

I tried to nod, but it was weak, and I wasn't that convinced anyhow. I tried to concentrate on something else, particularly his long, purple hair, flowing off his shoulders and messily scattered on his around neck and back. I still felt silly, though, especially with Harley between my widely spread legs.

"Relax," he repeated, petting my knee with his thumb.

I sucked in air. Harley pushed my legs apart the further down he went, eventually hovering over me, our chests touching. I gasped as Harley not only made a jerk of his hips to allow our lengths touch but stretched my muscles uncomfortably. It hurt being so wantonly lain out like this, and I had to control my legs from just giving up on me. But, Harley soon distracted me. He sucked at my neck momentarily, kissing me fully on the lips in a still way, as if he was trying to get me to deepen it. And, I did. I moved my mouth in the most sensible way possible, trying to let the kiss feel comforting for the both of us.

The man's free hand reached up the side of my face, taking off my crooked glasses and doing so without even breaking the kiss. His other hand moved under his own mouth, wetting it and letting it descend the same direction it had been last night: between my legs, past my erection and away from my view. I shivered, my mortification reforming when his finger traced over my entrance, his movements so sure and so expert. And, he pressed inside me. I clenched my teeth and felt a crazy burn of pressure that was foreign all over again.

Harley made more hushing sounds, trying to get my muscles to relax so the pressure wouldn't be so bad. I tried, but it was hard when his finger kept moving to reach the area he had managed to touch before. I wanted to feel that odd, odd sensation. It was different than when he touched me elsewhere, because it was inside me, somewhere I had never touched before and yet proved to posses the ability of a thrilling reaction.

I squirmed, my fists clenching around the sheets to distract myself. Harley's back straightened again, and he was no longer that close to me. He wiggled his way back between my legs, purposely letting our thighs touch intimately. The finger inside me was turning, suddenly going back and forth and hitting the place that made me suck in my lower lip, preventing a gasp of excitement.

Harley smirked, watching my expression scrunch up, watching my legs arch and my feet clench. His finger was in deep, going in further with each flick of a touch. I gasped many times, the best I could do to quiet down otherwise louder noises. Harley rubbed our bodies together now, our lengths kneading. My eyelids fell closed when he slid his finger out in a quick and very rough way.

I knew, vaguely, in the back of my mind, why he was repositioning himself now, lifting my legs up in that uncomfortable and humiliating way all over again. I was so nervous now, so frightened and very, very unsure. I wanted to move away, make him stop. And, he felt this in me, I could tell. To comfort me, he wrapped his hand around me, fondling me quickly before he took his length into his own hand and used his other arm to push his way between my legs.

"Harley, I…" I let my sentence fall, looking at him worriedly. "I… don't know now."

My legs up high, he was able to kiss my knee. He kept his mouth there and said, "It'll be okay, Maximus."

"But, I… I think it's going to hurt."

"It won't for long," he stated in an uneven tone.

Harley's hand was impatiently and desperately stroking himself, his face displaying need and desire. He wanted this so badly, I could tell, and I felt so obligated to agree now. Was he intending that? Was this his way of manipulating me into agreeing? But, the fact he _wanted _my permission made me smile distantly. He could have been violent about this from the beginning, but instead, he wanted my consent. He wasn't as viscous as I sometimes thought. And, as inexperienced as I was, I couldn't believe that despite being beneath Harley, I did not feel the least bit possessed _by him_. In fact, with him above me—trying to please me, trying to do things just _for me _and wanting my consent—I was actually the one dictating what was happening and the extent of it all. I couldn't believe it.

I was so comforted by the realization that I gave a small nod, although I was still skeptical and concerned. But, this movement of my head, the accord I gave, made Harley's eyes close, an expression of relief, happiness and anticipation. He wetted his entire hand with his saliva, moistening his length before he moved forward, the tip beginning to press into me.

"Harley—" I automatically gasped, doubt flooding me.

"Just wait," he assured me in a haste, shutting his eyes.

I clenched my teeth, my fist, my feet, all my muscles. He used his free hand to stroke me, sending a weird mix of pain and pleasure through my body. He was now beginning to fully penetrate me, pushing in slowly as he lazily pumped me in his hand. The man's head fell backwards, and he let out a type of moan I hadn't heard before, so lost and thrilled by what I was allowing him to do.

He cursed and made even more surprising statements while I just breathed heavily, feeling myself stretch as he pushed in, feeling myself burning with strain as he dived forward. I wanted to tell him to stop. It hurt. It was awful. I hated it. How could this feel good like he said it would? Tears welled up in my eyes, and instead of letting out noises of pleasure, I made sounds of discomfort.

"Wait, wait," he went on again, trying to assuage my pain by making my length slide around his enfolded hand.

I continued to gasp in pain, but I would wait. I had to because it was pathetic to give up on it so quickly. If I could leave home, become independent, face all the troubles I had on my journeys, I could do _this_ now. And, I was eased by the thought, letting my muscles relax. No longer feeling the weird pressure, Harley's hips tilted, aiming to have his hardness press into me enjoyably. He did this several times, and then, suddenly, I felt it, and against my own wishes, I let out a moan.

"Yes, Maximus, that's it," Harley hummed happily, continuing to move inside me.

"Harley…" I breathed, closing my eyes tightly and pressing my head back into the bed pillows.

Slowly, he began to move, in and out. He groaned in pleasure, his arms tightening around my elevated limbs. His thrusts were leisure and timid, but I felt the eagerness in his hips, the want to go faster. I pressed onto him, inviting him further, wanting more despite the burn. His hard length felt so weird inside of me, but as he thrust, as he drove himself in and out, I was beginning to feel good, feel enjoyment. I moved my legs, and the grip from his arms loosened, allowing my limbs to spread between him, against his sides.

"Goddamn, Maximus," the man breathed, moaning savagely as he helped bring my legs up his body and around his waist.

This position lessened the pain almost completely, making it easier for me push down as he pushed in. I felt so heedless and lewd, but at the same time, I was so eager for more. As he thrust warm and fully into me, he pumped me in his hand, sending delight through my body, sending a foggy blur through my mind. He kept doing this, too, pushing in and out, hard and fast, hovering over my body and his eyes lolling back as he moaned out my name in a melted, passionate way.

I stifled down so many moans, letting them come out as huffs and grunts. I couldn't, however, control the movements of my hips, the movements that pressed down onto him. My hips twisted and jerked, my legs spread and bent—all while he pushed in, in, in, until I bit my lip, my muscles contracting harshly just as I let out my release unexpectedly into his enfolded hand.

"Har_ley_—!" I gasped, my head falling backwards, his name coming out of my mouth so subconsciously.

Harley continued to penetrate my body, giving himself several more thrusts until I felt his body shake in his own completion. "_Ahh_, Max," he grunted, his back arching and his chest projecting out as I felt his hot release spill into my body.

My entire body collapsed. My legs fell, sliding back to his sides. Strained, feeling like a thrown marionette, my muscles were sore and weak. Harley managed to continue holding his weight on his knees, but he was breathing harshly, his head still lolled backwards as he looked up in an expression of disbelief, and strangely, utter fulfillment. A smile eventually extended onto his lips, and he looked down at me, some hair messily matted down by the sweat on his forehead.

"Fuck, Maximus," he groaned through a wide smirk. "Oh, you are un-fucking-believable."

I shut my eyes, catching my breath. Instead of shame assailing me, I felt pride. I was washed down with aftershock and disbelief like Harley, but I was so amazed that I had done this, that I had let Harley do it and that I had enjoyed it so much. I bit my lip, feeling Harley's face hover near mine, pressing his lips on my cheek.

"Mmm," the man moaned, still lost in his amazement. He kissed me gently, then brushed my hair around, smiling all the meanwhile. "You kill me, I swear," he said, wiping the hand stained with my release onto the sheets.

I didn't know what to say. I returned his kiss despite it, but my eyes shut and my muscles tightened when I felt him begin to pull out of me. No longer moistened by his saliva, it hurt terribly, rough and inflamed. He dropped a hand below us, feeling around where he pulled his length out and letting his fingers touch. Just the dry tip of his finger stung, and he brought his hand back up to view, revealing it just the bit dampened with redness. I was faintly bleeding.

My eyes widened, not even expecting this. Harley frowned at both my expression and my wound, but he wiped the blood away, caressing my shoulder comfortingly. Soon, he moved beside me, lying on his back but still rubbing his palm around my neck.

"Are you all right?" he asked, turning to his side and pressing his lips on my upper-arm.

It was a silly question to ask since I was bleeding, but honestly, I still felt fine, complete and satisfied. "Yes," I told him after a deep breath. "I am, Harley. That was…"

"Amazing? Unbelievable? Intense? Fucking, downright thrilling?" He smiled, making a humming satisfied sound. "Or, all of the above?"

I pushed in my lips and closed my eyes. "I… um…" I shrugged. "It's hard to believe any of it. I can't even _begin to_ believe—"

"Neither can I!" he exclaimed before I could finish. "I think if I were to be killed right now, I'd die a happy man."

I began to turn red, feeling the acclamation was a bit too much. Harley sat up, tugging at the sheets and draping them across our bodies. I moved to get under, Harley doing the same. The fine, soft sheets covering my body made me feel less exposed, and I felt better. Harley draped an arm around me, pulling me close to him. I adjusted myself against him, finding it otherwise rude to pull away.

Harley's fingers brushed through my hair, and pressing my face into his shoulder, I breathed in his scent. That lavender, smoky, warm scent filled my nostrils, and I was so amazed that I hadn't clamed up. I didn't even want to get away—I was comfortable here, with him. I wanted to stay. Being in the same bed as him was oddly pleasant even though the only other person I had ever shared a bed with had been with May.

_May…_

The thought of her, the thought of her _now_ as I lied next to Harley was uncomfortable and strange. I suddenly began to think about a million things concerning her, like what she would have thought if she knew, or, again, if she had even done anything like this. I turned red, now embarrassed.

Harley felt the change, and wondered, "What's wrong?"

I bit my lip, pressing my face into his shoulder even more to avoid his stare. I wanted to ask him if he thought Drew and May had done anything, but it would've sounded stupid and weird. So, instead, I asked, "Why didn't you do, um, _that _the first time?"

"That?" he echoed. Then, realizing what I was asking, he countered with: "What would you have done had I tried, hmm? I won't lie—I wanted to do that, oh yes, but I knew you wouldn't have agreed, and fuck, it wouldn't have made it so great _now, _would it?"

I shrugged at this last question, thinking once again about his desire for my consent with the whole thing. Would it have made it less enjoyable for him had he done it unwillingly? I didn't want to think about it since it was far too dark, but I couldn't help being so amazed all over again. Finally, I gained the courage to ask, "Do you think May ever, well, you know…?"

Harley's head thudded against the pillows, and he made a disgusted sound. "Max, why would you ask such a thing?" He made another sound of nausea. "I would hope not."

I raised an eyebrow, confused. "Why?"

"Because, Maximus, doesn't the thought sicken you? The idea that anyone would have her is quite gross."

I groaned in annoyance, wondering why every conversation about May had to turn into an insult. "You said Drew and May were affectionate—or at least May was—so do you think that meant anything?"

"Max, the thought is not what I want in my head," he reaffirmed. Harley slapped his lips together and silenced anything else from me by saying, "But, I do I think you beat her to losing your virginity, Maximus."

Virginity. That word sounded so weird. I didn't want to think about it now, knowing that in reality it was Harley who had taken mine, that he was probably right when he suggested May had never done anything, and that even though I was younger, I had somehow achieved having sex way before her. I blushed and bit my lip, once again groaning in annoyance. Harley patted the back of my head, and even though I couldn't see his smile, I could feel it.

"Don't tell me you're going to get all prim and proper now," Harley complained. "You have a terrible habit of letting yourself submit to our dirty little activities and then acting like a prude moments later."

I knew this was true, so I couldn't be too insulted. I defended myself anyway, pointing out, "Maybe it's a matter of being caught up in the moment."

Harley embraced me closely, almost possessively. "You're such a tease, darling."

I wasn't exactly sure what he meant, but I liked how his arm felt around me, the way he stroked my shoulder blade. I never had anyone hold me so close, so intimately. To be nestled and snug like this was bewildering, a mix of sensations that felt so pure and fine. And, knowing it was all coming from Harley made it even more amazing.

xxxxx

_-Harley-_

Unbelievable! Oh, where to begin with it all, where, where? If greed was good then I was great, because that—_that—_was the best fucking moment of my life, I decided. I couldn't remember ever enjoying someone the way I enjoyed my Maximus. Being inside him, having his taut ass constrict around my hard cock, well, God almighty, if that kid was not the definition of a faunlet, who was? Just watching his brow crease with frustration, his eyes well-up with tears, his mouth gape with cries of pain and pleasure—_fuck, _what an astonishing achievement for the both of us.

I knew it: I _knew _if he allowed me to fuck him, he would enjoy it. And, he even came in my hand again, letting out his release shamelessly. Remembering the warm feeling, I had to bring my hand to my mouth and taste the small essences of his seed between my fingers. I grinned, resting my chin on his head softly, smelling his hair and looking down as he stuffed his face into my shoulder. My God, even after all of that he craved my touches still, brilliantly pushing himself against my body.

I really was a greedy fuck. I wanted to do it all over again, regardless of the evidence of pain I had inflicted on him, which I did feel bad for causing. I hated the sight and feel of his blood. I knew that it was bound to happen, and I swear that I could feel the tearing as I pushed into him, but I had been greedy, wanting simply to get my cock in there and try and ignore the distressful gasps he made.

Well, it was over now, and there was no use dwelling on it. The poor boy would probably be sore for quite some time, and I knew I'd have to give him time to heal before I even attempted to try and get him to agree to shagging again. Oh, yes, we were doing that again, I had already decided! But, actually, if I had to give him time to heal and _wait, _then… Well, how long was that all going to take?

I thought about this for a moment, wondering what Max would consider us to be if we lasted longer than this single romp. I mean, the last time I had fucked someone had been just over a week ago, a young man I had met right there in Goldenrod City before I had decided on getting a hotel room. I had spent the first night in the guy's apartment, and since I had, well, the tendency to get up in the morning long before my company awoke, that guy had been no exception. I wasn't too good with morning-after reunions, so that was usually the routine. But, with Max, the issue had never even crossed my mind because I had already spent so much time with the kid. I hadn't been afraid to wake up next to him last night, and I had even been disappointed when he was gone this very morning.

And, now, since I had successfully shagged him, there should have been no reason to see him again, let alone spend more time together. But, Lord help me, I wanted to—I really did. He wasn't even half as annoying as I originally thought he could be, and now, every time I laid eyes on him, I didn't see May's little brother. Nope, I saw this adorable tart who had teased me up until just moments ago, when he agreed to let me put my cock up his ass and come into my hand.

I exhaled deeply, feeling Max blink against my skin. I scooted him up, kissing the side of his face. I tried to relax and stop the reminiscing of our wonderful fuck, and for a second, I was fairly successful when I concentrated on how soft Max's skin was. Of course, thinking about his soft skin made me think about the soft skin on his inner thighs. Near his cock. Near the cock that had been in my hands only minutes ago.

I grunted, sitting up and losing contact with Max. I pinched the bridge of my nose, wondering _whhhy _Max had to be in my thoughts all the goddamn time. So, I let the silence end.

"Is my Maximus hungry?" I asked, another attempt to distract my perverted thoughts.

Max's expression revealed he was confused why I had moved away. He accepted it, though, leaning back to his own side of the bed and looking up at the ceiling. Being away from his body was for the best, otherwise I would've been forced to have my way with the boy all over again.

"No," he answered in a sigh. I hoped he wasn't too disappointed the embrace ended. I could've explained that it was for the best, but I had a feeling he wouldn't have understood my reasoning.

"You haven't eaten a single thing all day," I pointed out, placing a hand on his stomach, which really felt hollow and in need of food.

Max furrowed his brow, not liking how I sounded so parental, I guessed. "I think I should take a shower," he told me, biting his lip. "Is that all right?"

I looked over at the clock, seeing it was five p.m.. We had hours to go until it was bedtime, and I felt that perhaps it were best if he _did _go take a shower and get out of my sight before I pounced on him. I grinned, putting my hands behind my head. "Of course, it is, Maximus."

Max sat up, giving me a questionable look. His lips were pursed in confusion, and he looked sincerely lost as if he didn't know whether or not he should go. I patted his thigh, which was visible from underneath the silky sheets. I let my hand rest there, feeling up his leg slowly. He blushed, turning warm, and I urged him to come closer to me. Hesitant, Max was slow, but he made it, his face lingering in front of mine.

I grinned. "Someone's getting comfortable around me," I noted, kissing his nose.

His blush deepened. "It's not that, it's just…"

I silenced him by putting a finger up to his lips. "Don't lie to me," I said, sliding my hand down his body.

"Stop," he ordered, looking away and blushing. This particular expression reminded me of the first time I ever got flirty with him: the time I had slunk an arm around his body as I smoked a cigarette, right after we ate dinner in my Goldenrod hotel room.

I kissed him fully on the lips, having to tilt my head to get in good contact with his small lips. I then let go of him, holding my arms up to gesture he was free to go take a shower at that point. Max sighed, crawling off of me and gathering his clothes. He properly covered himself with them before slinking off to the bathroom.

I got out of bed, grabbing the one robe from the doorless closet and putting it on lazily. The light green material was soft and thin, feeling pleasant against my skin after being damp from sweat. I grabbed my box of cigarettes, finding that I only had a few more. I lit one up, taking a long drag as I leaned my head back, thinking about the adorable look on Max's face just a moment ago. I walked out to the living room, passing the bathroom, which was closed. On the coffee table remained the box of tea cakes my darling boy had bought for me, an act I truly felt was made as a way to try and seduce me. Yep, little Max was the tempting one here and always had been. I grabbed a cake, eating it slowly as I walked back to the bedroom, pacing impatiently, I realized.

I finished eating the cake, continuing to smoke while I tidied up my clothing scattered around the room. It took a long time for me to finish my cigarette, mostly letting it all go to waste, really. When I finished, I discarded it and went to lie on the bed again, feeling completely useless. I did notice, however, the water had stopped in the bathroom.

I thought back to when we were in Goldenrod, a scene very much like this taking place. Back then, Max had taken a shower to clean himself off of the pool water, but now, I wondered if he was showering as a way to get away from me, not to mention clean himself off from my touches. I decided I wouldn't let it bother me, though. I didn't have the energy to mull over whether Max thought, deep down, everything we had done was wrong, especially since I wanted to hang around him more.

After several more minutes, I heard the bathroom door open and the sound of a towel waving about in the air. I sucked in some air, imaging how Max was drying himself off now. I closed my eyes, wishing I wasn't so goddamn lazy so I could get up and have another cigarette. I had gone through almost a whole box in just a few days, and I was simply a casual smoker. Max's presence had increased the amount of tobacco that had gone into my system, most likely a stressful distraction I used to get my mind off of the boy's faunlet body. If so, now I should've been able to completely quit since Max was all mine. Quitting was unlikely to happen, though, just because I really had no desire to stop.

A clearing of a throat made me open my eyes, seeing Max basically drowning in a large towel. I could tell he wasn't sure whether to come back into the bedroom, but I motioned him to anyway.

"Is there a reason you made such a big deal about the tub?" he wondered, snuggly wrapped in the cotton towel.

"I like to take baths," I stated, moving over to make room for Max in the bed.

Max crawled back into the bed, his towel still tightly around him, not even letting loose for a second. Oh, how he got so shy after everything was done and over. Here he wanted to cover up his perfect little body, and it was both darling and frustrating at the same time. Darling because it showed how perfectly innocent and sweet he could be; frustrating because I don't think he'd ever allow me to have my fun when afterglow ended.

I sat up, lifting his towel partly off his thigh, cocking my head in curiosity. "Are you still bleeding?" I asked.

Max narrowed his eyes, pursing his lips when he felt my fingers linger behind him, around his taut ass. "A little," he revealed shyly.

I prodded about just a bit, feeling no present blood. I was glad. His body jerked, however, when I touched him further, my unclean hands stinging against his spick and span skin. I stroked his hipbone as he relaxed on the bed, his towel shrugging off his shoulders only a bit. I managed to get him under the covers eventually. He looked like a helpless, sick child. His glasses were somewhere on the nightstand, but he didn't need them, and besides, I liked the way he looked without them right now. It contributed to his delicate manner.

"Max," I began suddenly, grinning at him, "I must admit something to you."

Max furrowed his brow again, looking concerned. "Um, what?" he wondered, resting his wet head against the pillow.

"As you already know, I am very fond of you, since you're a tart and all." I grinned wider.

Max rolled his eyes. "Okay…"

"And, though you're beginning to get all shy on me again," I continued, gesturing towards the way he was wearing the towel, "I fear that tomorrow morn you'll only be shyer, and well, perhaps _regretful_."

"Oh. Well, I… I don't think so," he told me. "I mean, Harley, I _let you_."

That's right, Max, you sure did! I didn't let myself sound anywhere close to this level of excitement when I spoke, however. "I sure hope not," I admitted dully. "I do want to know what it meant to you, though."

Max blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I think you know what I mean. To me, wooing my little Maximus meant many things, most especially that I could finally relax and not be tempted to just jump you all the time. I also would like to think that this could be the beginning of something very fun."

Max's complexion burned red and pink. He even moved the bed sheets half over his face. "I don't know what it meant," he said. "I mean, it was… nice, I guess… I think…"

This was ironic, I thought. Here he was, trying to formulate some kind of reasonable explanation for why he expressed desires for me when I had just spouted the truth behind my affection without balk. Our roles really should've been reversed. If I were some sensitive teenage girl, I would've had every right to storm out of the room, crying. But, I knew Max's stuttering was due to his embarrassment, and I wondered if he would ever be able to admit that he was attracted to me.

"Well, my sweet," I hushed Max, stopping him from going on, "let's not strain your head by admitting something you're not ready to."

"No, Harley, it's not that," he defended quickly. "I just honestly don't know what this all means, or what's going to happen tomorrow morning… or the next day… or anything. I'm sorry."

I waved a hand in dismissal. "We're in the same boat for the latter," I unveiled. "But, I suppose it's not something we need figure out now, don't you agree?" I scooted my body over, crawling over his and trapping him playfully beneath me.

Max narrowed his eyes all over again. "I guess not. But, _now_ I'm bothered by what's going to happen tomorrow."

Despite my ultimate goal being to screw the kid, I never had the intention of molesting him and running off afterwards. I always figured it would be a mutual goodbye, but now, _now _it seemed to be a mutual conflict of what we wanted to happen next.

"Then how about we just take this one day at a time, mmkay?" I suggested. "That way, we can stay _together _for a bit. Doesn't that sound lovely?"

"You mean, um…" His entire fucking body burned with embarrassment! "Um, you want to travel with me?"

"Bingo," I said, poking his face. "I just like you that much."

"You really want to be around me?" he asked, seeming so unconvinced.

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "Think about how glorious it would be, too. Every town, a new hotel to stay at with me! We can eat at all the best fucking restaurants together, and we can battle, and I'll be contributing to your training."

Max still wasn't convinced. "You'll get annoyed with me," he said.

"Now why would that happen?" I wondered, sliding a hand through his damp hair. "To be honest, you'll probably get more annoyed with me."

This made Max smile. "Maybe," he admitted jovially. "Have you even traveled with anyone before?"

I blinked. "Why, no, I haven't. I'm sure I know the etiquette, though."

"I haven't traveled with anyone else after Brock, Ash and May," he told me despondently.

"So, we're both lonely," I concluded, though I truly never considered myself lonesome at all. Max just happened to be the first lad I wanted around me this long. I grinned like a maniac, just thinking about what we could do on a journey together!

"What happens if, um, _this _doesn't exactly go as planned?" Max inquired next, biting the inside of his cheek as he raised a single eyebrow.

"We can find the answers on the way," I assured him again.

Max let himself smile a bit. He craned his neck, allowing me to kiss him when I tried. Our lips mashed together beautifully, and once again, I just couldn't goddamn believe it all. This truly was the beginning of a fucking beautiful life experience, and I couldn't wait for it to start.

**End of Part Four**


	5. Part Five

**Part Five**

_-Harley-_

I turned, closing the door with my foot as I balanced the large tray of food in my hands and bit down on two cloth napkins in my mouth. It was five a.m., way too early to be up, but way too late to try and go back to bed. The room service attendant, who had just dropped off the breakfast I ordered, had _not _been the friendliest man in the world, but that really did not matter. After all, I just saved money on the tip.

Walking towards the bed, I eyed Max's body, twisted in the sheets. The towel he had worn was now on the floor, having fallen off sometime during the night. The two of us had spent some more time talking last night before both drifting off into an early sleep. I now regretted that since I was up so goddamn early, but at least room service had been kind enough to make breakfast. Seeing Max so comfortably asleep made me not want to bother him, but I kept making my way towards the bed, letting out of small cough after placing the napkins on the tray. Max, hearing the sound, moved around in annoyance, not wanting to get up quite yet.

I laughed quietly, setting the tray of eggs, bagels, hash browns and two glasses of orange juice onto the unoccupied side of the bed. The boy's leg stuck out from the messy sheets, his ankle, knee and thigh so perfectly shaped that it drove me wild to just take a glimpse. He looked more delectable than the fucking food. I knew what he tasted like, how his skin felt, how clean and smooth his _entire _body was.

"Mmm, Maximus," I called out.

The boy stirred again. He had been in and out of his sleep since I awoke thirty minutes ago. Slightly irked by the boy's refusal to rise, I carefully placed my hands on the edge of the mattress and began to crawl across it, making sure I did not disturb the tray.

"Oh, Maximus," I repeated, raking my hand across the boy's chest. I continued to crawl directly on top of him, positioning my legs on either side of the younger boy's body. "My sweet, you need to wake up, darling."

Max groaned, and I suspected it was because of the pet names I randomly decided to say. He threw an arm over his eyes, avoiding the lighting from the lamps around the room. I petted his head, urging him to wake.

"That's it," I said, running my fingers through the boy's hair, then leaning down to give him a kiss on the forehead.

"Errm, Harley," he moaned, and fucking hell it sounded seductive. "What time is it?" he wondered.

I reached backwards, still pinned above the boy as I took one of the bagels from the tray. "That doesn't matter," I explained, biting off a piece of the food and keeping it trapped between my teeth. I leaned down once more, poking the bread into Max's face, urging him to take a bite.

Max groaned again, irritated. He attempted to reach for his glasses on the nightstand, but I was persistent, still trying to make the boy bite into the bagel before I even allowed him to sit up. He chewed and swallowed the bread just as I offered a glass of orange juice to him. He put up a hand, not wanting it, so I drank it slowly.

I readjusted myself, allowing Max to sit up and lean against the headboard while I sat, legs crossed, and slid the tray in between the two of us. "This is nice, hmm?" I voiced cozily. "And, I intend to make all our mornings this lovely."

Max blushed but managed to smile at me anyway. Because of this, I extended an arm out so I could comb his messy hair. The boy was still unclothed, never quite getting around to dressing last night. I had taken off my robe before I drifted off to sleep, but now I was wearing it, completely contrasting to the naked and non-groomed boy. But, it was fair to say Max never looked more delicious, oh, that was for sure!

"Why are we up so early?" Max complained, unfurling the cloth napkin to wipe his mouth. He just continued to eat, eyeing me all the meanwhile.

I leaned back, holding my weight by my arms. I patiently watched Max eat, enjoying how the boy purposely kept looking at me as if he was _begging _for me to just kiss him. Once Max was done eating, I took the boy's napkin and wiped his mouth myself. I took a few bites of a bagel, then moved the tray away from us, pushing it to the very far side of the bed. Max began to reach for his glasses, but once more, I stopped him, this time by leaning forward against the boy and pressing our mouths together. Max responded enthusiastically, craning his neck as he deepened the kiss.

"Mmm," I moaned into his mouth, pulling away for a second. I let one hand travel up the back of Max's neck, grinning at him. "Don't you think this day is off to a great start?"

Max shrugged, reaching for his glass of orange juice. He took a sip and then licked his lips dry. "Maybe," he answered.

"Thing is," I began, matter-of-factly, "I only paid for this room up until seven a.m., so we ought to get going for the day."

Max finally had a chance to put on his glasses. He looked up at me—so fucking adorable!—and frowned. "So, what does that mean exactly?"

"I want you to decide where to go next," I told him. "Because we can either go to Mahogany Town or Olivine City, and since _I _personally do not give a shit, you can decide."

Max blinked, seeming to actually realize for the first time that we were indeed going to be traveling together. I took a moment myself to think about that, but it didn't really hit me the way I expected. Maybe because I was already so used to the idea.

"Mahogany Town is closer," he told me, "but then it would take longer to get to Olivine, so it doesn't really matter. It will even out in the end." After another sip of his orange juice, he said, "Let's go to Mahogany Town."

"All right, then," I agreed simply.

Max began fidgeting beneath my lap, trying to get out from under me. I stopped him, cocking my head in question. Where on earth did he think he was going? The boy was confused when I stilled his body, but he seemed to understand what I was saying. He raised an eyebrow, asking, "Can you get my PokéNav?"

I smiled. "Yes, I can," I said, getting off of him and searching for his backpack in the living room. I returned quickly, just bringing the whole goddamn bag into the room. I put the tray of food onto the floor, not wanting to spill anything when I got back onto the bed. I gave Max his backpack, returning to sitting on top of him possessively. But, Max didn't seem to have a single problem with this at all. And, I was glad.

Little Maximus dug through his backpack, finding the yellow device and turning it on. Being the little nerd that he was, full concentration was enforced as he messed with the object, searching for the route to the Mahogany Town or whatever the fuck he was doing.

"It's not that far," he restated. "We could make it tonight."

"Excellent," I said, tugging at the top of his backpack, peeking inside of it. I had nosed through it before, but I hadn't seen much besides those scanty pair of blue undies that I desperately wanted to see _again_.

Max pulled the bag away, not seeming to like me trying to look inside. I wondered if he knew what I was looking for. He spoke, softly, saying, "Harley, you don't seem too familiar with traveling, well, um, through the wilderness, I guess."

"That's true," I admitted, raising an eyebrow as I wondered what he was trying to ask.

He motioned his head towards my brown bag resting on the dresser. "You don't have a sleeping bag or anything, not like I do."

I pulled his backpack towards my direction, looking inside. I saw a small sleeping bag rolled into a tight cylinder-shaped thing. "Yes, you're right," I voiced. "Don't tell me that there's been occasions you've slept in the fucking forest all by yourself!" I then exclaimed.

Max's eyes widened at my holler. "Of course there has been," he stated. "All Pokémon trainers have… except when they're _you_."

I bit my lip, knowing he was suggesting that I had never slept outside, which was true, but I felt that he had no right judging me. Shouldn't _he _have been the one feeling inferior as I spent my nights in lavish hotels?

"What happens when you can't make it to a city in one day?" he wondered.

"That's never been a problem for me," I told him honestly. "I take buses, trains, hitch rides with weirdos."

Max frowned further. "That's not normal for a trainer!"

"You're not normal!" I protested. "Sleeping in the wilderness like that—you should be thankful some Pokémon never attacked you in your sleep!" Or, moreover, I thought to myself, that some serial rapist hadn't gotten to him.

"I let my Pokémon out during the night," he revealed, "so I'm not at risk of getting eaten by some Ursaring."

I put a hand over my heart, a dramatic hyperbole of relief. "You won't ever have to worry about that again, my sweet," I assured. "We will not be going _anywhere _without elaborate knowledge of how long it will take to get there and what rest stops are where and—"

"—_stop,_" Max ordered in annoyance. "I'm getting a headache."

I smiled, leaning down and pressing my lips against his forehead. "Well, if for some strange little reason we get lost in the forest and are forced to spend the night there," I began, my voice dropping to a whisper, "I can just cozy up in your sleeping bag, okay?"

Max turned his head away, pushing me back a little. He closed his PokéNav, placing it into his backpack as he dug through it for a new pair of clothes, I assumed. As he took out random items—his Pokéballs, socks, that seductive bathing suit, a bag of something labeled "Organic Pokémon Food," a sketchbook that looked unused, and so on—I spotted the extremely small blue undies. My previous assumption that the apparel was smaller than the bathing suit proved to be 100 percent correct since both things were lying right next to each other.

Just like before, the underwear looked so downright tight and skimpy. I picked them up, but Max's arm flung forward, fighting for the apparel back. This made my determination stronger, pulling the blue things away from him and holding them up into the air, getting a good look all over again. Oh, fuck, I really wanted to know how many pair of these things he owned!

"Ahh," I gasped, smiling widely. "Oh, Maximus, you little faunlet thing, you."

Max buried his face in his hands. "Harley," he warned.

"What?" I wondered, stretching the material a little. These had to be so goddamn tight on him, they really had to be. And, they were light blue, _light blue_! "Put these on," I suggested, a single side of my mouth turning up in a smirk.

Max turned beet red. "What? No!"

"Oh, yes," I insisted, pushing myself onto his thighs, holding him down beneath me.

The boy automatically began to struggle, a sincere sense of fear running through his body for a moment before he relaxed a bit, realizing I was being playful. He still seemed determined to get away, so I grabbed his hips, stilling him and dragging him out from beneath the sheets, revealing his naked little form.

"Harley!" he shouted, kicking his legs when one of my hands wrapped around his ankle. The various items from his bag, still scattered, bounced around as I fought him again, clanking together noisily on the mattress.

"Be a good boy, Max," I teased, slipping his foot into one of the leg holes of the tinsy pair of undies.

"Harley, stop! Those things are old, and they,"—the boy twisted himself, trying to get his leg out of the attire—"they don't fit anymore!"

"All the better!" I exclaimed, laughing through my grin as I managed to get his other leg into the underwear. I slid the attire up his calves, past his knees, against his thighs, finally snapping them down when they reached just under his hips.

And, fucking _hell _were they ever tight on him! I mean, Christ, his cock was so perfectly outlined in the things I knew it had to hurt on some level! I could sense if he kept them on long enough, the elastic grip around his inner thighs would cause a rash. Mmm, oh, he just looked fucking delicious in those things, though!

I breathed out heavily, telling him, "Oh, Max, I don't think it's normal to be so turned on by this."

Max turned redder, beginning to fight all over again to try and get the things off. I stopped him, pressing our chests together so I had him fully pinned onto the bed. I was so goddamn hard now, revealing this to him by rubbing myself on his hip. Max shut his eyes at the feeling, but I felt a twitch under his little blue undies, the boy beginning to get hard himself.

"See what you do to me?" I voiced happily. "This is why I need you around."

Max grunted. "These things hurt!"

"Then why didn't you throw them out, hmm?" I wondered, untying my robe so that my bare skin could touch him. Max pursed his lips when I rested my cock against the material of the underwear. I could feel his arousal pressing, restricted from going any further in the tight confinement of the undies.

"I can't just throw away perfectly good underwear," he argued miserably.

"So, these are emergency pairs, eh? Ah, fuck, Max, you kill me." I exhaled, brushing our bodies together. "But, if you're so sensitive about them being 'perfectly good,' I am familiar with one or two ways to dirty 'em up."

"Stop," he complained, but his cock was growing harder and harder, my warm body just inflaming his own. He threw his head back in frustration, trying to push me off just to prove a pointless point.

Like some fucking beastly savage thing, I just sat up, our cocks still in contact as I thrust my body against his urgently. I moaned loudly while Max pursed his lips. My cock slid against his beneath the material, each thrust fast, hot and so goddamn rough. I was surprised by the severity of his hardness, seeming so equal to mine as I made us grind together, over and over.

"Are you sore?" I breathed out, my hips shoving against his carnally, making the items from Max's bag scatter even more messily around the mattress.

Max furrowed his brow, opening his eyes and looking up at me. "Huh?"

"Sore. Are you sore?" I repeated, staring up to the ceiling even as I continued to rub our bodies together, so on-edge of a climax, but so ready to stop my movements just in case he thought he could handle me inside him again.

"You mean…?" he began, blushing.

"Yes," I answered, holding the boy down by his shoulders just to get more contact with him, grating against him, feeling like our bodies were leaving burns on each other.

Max closed his eyes, his hips bucking up involuntarily when my grinds became even fiercer, our thighs, our knees, our groins just pounding against the other. I pushed my hands into his own, tightening my fingers around his smaller ones.

"_Fuck_—!" I shouted, my release coming unexpectedly and Max's following just after. The thin fabric of his underwear was now stained, soaked with our climaxes, so completely dirty that Max had no excuse not to throw them out now. I grinned like a madman, collapsing onto the boy and making the wetness on the fabric sink in further as I relaxed against him.

_Damn, _I thought to myself. I would've loved to have fucked him again, but through my desperation I hadn't thought about how uncomfortable it would've been for the boy. I had just taken the poor kid's virginity last night, and it was wise to keep my cock away from his ass for a while, lest I do more damage than good. Still, it was a shame that we came before he even had a chance to answer. There was always a possibility it could've happened.

Suddenly, Max made a painful gasp beneath my weight, groaning soon after as he tried to push me off. "Harley," he exhaled, half-afterglow, half-annoyance. He straightened out his glasses, the things ever quite going off during our fun.

I kissed the side of his face several times, so lost in a passionate lust for him. I let my now-soft cock glide against the damp fabric for a while, feeling Max go limp under the material as well. Tired now, I rolled off him, moving aside the miscellaneous items from Max's bag. The boy grimaced, looking down at the pair of undies matted onto his skin. I laughed at his reaction, reaching out to pull the attire off his body. They really were drenched, and it would've been disgusting had it been anyone else but the two of us. Just to tease him, I dangled the undies in front of his face, getting ready to press it against his cheek.

"Ugh, Harley!" he shouted, slapping the things out of my grip. They fell to the floor, making me laugh loudly. "You're gross," he complained, turning away from me.

I adored him immensely at that moment, watching a slight blush cross over his cheeks and a stiffness creep into his shoulders. I couldn't help smirking brightly, kissing him again, but this time, on the lips. I even forced him to lean his head back so I could deepen the liplock, letting my tongue slide in and getting a nice taste of his mouth.

"To be honest with you, Max," I told him, "I nosed through your backpack before, and I found those very undies. This was all a part of one devious plan."

Max didn't seem too surprised. He huffed nonetheless and shook his head. "They're just underwear. Maybe if _you _wore some, you wouldn't be so mesmerized by mine."

I chuckled. "Even if I did choose to wear some," I argued playfully, "they wouldn't be nearly as cute as yours." I caressed his face before I hopped out of bed, stretching my muscles tiredly and retying my robe.

"So, are we getting ready to go now?" Max questioned, untwisting himself from the sheets.

"I suppose," I said, taking his hand and helping him out of the bed.

Max gathered the items messily thrown around the bed, replacing them in his bag as he took out some clean clothing. Ah, just watching him stand there—stark fucking naked—in front of me was an amazing sight. Just a few days ago I never would've thought this was possible, that this boy would be standing in my hotel room naked right in front of me, the two of us having just dirtied up a pair of his undies with our come.

I knew I could've spent more time exploring and having fun with that body of his, but if I did, we'd never get around to leaving this hotel. I'd have to look forward to a day like that in the future since right now we were on a time-constraint.

I removed my robe again, throwing it on the bed and changing into my normal clothing. As I threw on my small jacket, I turned to see Max pulling that little collared shirt over his head. I sort of wished he would wear that green hoodie again, as he looked absolutely _darling _in it. I bent down to pick up the pair of stained underwear, smiling distantly as I threw them in the trash. What a waste, too. I decided that Max needed even tighter undies, though, and so I made a mental note about it.

I gathered up the rest of my random belongings and put them in my bag, stepping over the tray of food as I left the bedroom. I put on my hat lazily, letting it droop in front of my eyes just a bit. The tea cakes were still sitting on the coffee table, though most of them were gone. I ate the last two so I wouldn't disappoint Max, then sat down to put on my boots.

Max came out of the bedroom, his shoes on and his hair brushed. I grinned at Max, motioning for him to come over to me. His backpack hung from a single shoulder, and while he walked over, he managed to get his other arm through the other strap. I pulled him close to me, my fingers crawling up his chest merrily. I adjusted his glasses for him, licking my lips before kissing him thoroughly on the mouth.

"What was that for?" he questioned, furrowing his brow.

"Nothing," I told him, rubbing his back. "I just can't get enough of my Maximus."

Max paused, uncertain how to respond to that. He eventually pushed me away, heading for the door. "Are you ready?" he asked bitterly.

Max's sudden change in mood amused me, and I took a moment to laugh at his childish ways before I got up and followed him out of the room. I had already talked to the desk attendant before I called room service, so there was no need to inform anyone I was checking out.

Outside, the sun still had not fully risen. Dusky and silvery, the sky still managed to glisten, and it smelt like an ideal summer morning. I breathed in the scent, looking down at Max and relaxing. No longer would I have to worry about what was going to happen between the two of us. I could now look forward to having lots of fun with the boy, claiming his body even more and simply being able to enjoy his ravishing looks whenever I felt like it.

"I was hoping maybe we would hear the bells," Max noted, referring to the Tin Tower. "But, I guess that's a little too much to ask for since they only go off when Ho-Oh is said to return to the city."

I smacked my lips in disbelief. "Oh, I doubt that ever happens then," I told the boy.

The two of us walked west, heading towards Mahogany Town. Now _that _town I heard was a fucking bore, even worse than Ecruteak! I had never been, but I doubted if I told Max he wouldn't believe me since I had lied about Ecruteak. From the corner of my eye, I watched Max dig into his backpack to fetch one of his Pokéballs. He threw it, releasing his Murkrow into the air. The Pokémon happily flapped its wings, turning to face Max and landing on the boy's shoulder.

"Maybe I should get some of my darlings back from Slateport," I mused. "I do miss my sweet Ariados."

"I think you should!" Max said, his mood brightening. "I wouldn't mind seeing some of the Pokémon you caught here in Johto."

I chuckled to myself, amused by how the simple talk of Pokémon brightened the kid's mood. He was such a dork. "Well, then, I should give the daycare a call and ask," I decided.

"The daycare?" Max repeated. "I thought you said a friend was taking care of them."

"The lady at the daycare happens to be my friend," I told him.

Max raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that sort of, I dunno, _unfair_ that you leave them there?"

"How?"

Max shrugged and said, "Because you're having your Pokémon stay with someone who trains them. You're their trainer, so _you _should be the one training them."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Well, what do your Pokémon do at home? Just lie around in Norman's greenhouse? Don't you think it would be more beneficial if you had them stay some place where they could keep up with their skills?"

"Sure, but to _pay for that _is just wrong!" he argued.

I watched as Murkrow perched its head high, letting the wind hit its face as Max and I walked along an open path. The route was barely decorated with any kind of trees, and instead, a wooden fence outlined where we were supposed to walk. This was all unfamiliar to me, but I figured this route would lead straight into Mahogany Town. There was absolutely no one else around. The two of us were alone at this hour of daybreak, the colors in the sky still shifting from a dusky gray to a purple saturation.

I let out a huff, not caring to argue anymore. Despite it, I concluded, "Well, it's better than leaving them in a crackhouse, now ain't it?"

Max rolled his eyes, and asked, "So, which Pokémon are you going to have transported over?"

I hummed, biting my bottom lip as I thought this out. "Sneasel, of course," I said, "and maybe I should send back Cacturne since he really doesn't seem to enjoy staying locked up in his ball all day."

"But, isn't Cacturne, like, your strongest?" Max questioned. "I know you said when you caught Cacnea you began liking Pokémon, but was he even your first?"

"How conclusive of you, Maximus. Cacturne sure was, and I've always carried him with me since, so it would be difficult to be separated," I stated. "So, maybe I won't send him back after all."

"I think you should have Totodile sent over," he then said, ignoring my judgment.

"Hmm, maybe I should," I mused further. "Oh, and of course there's my cute little Natu, but I might not have him transferred over."

Max nodded along with the list. "Is that all you caught in Johto?"

"I also caught a Skarmory," I admitted happily.

"I can't wait to see them," Max said, turning his head as if he were speaking exclusively to Murkrow. I really enjoyed his statement, though. He said it with complete certainty, like he was subconsciously admitting that he was going to be sticking around with me. "Um, so," Max then said, "I was wondering… when did you start training? I mean, I know you left home after your mom and dad, um, died, but how old were you?"

I smirked, happy Max was interested in my past, though there wasn't much to tell. "I was eighteen, Max. And, _well_, I don't think I ever really _began_, so to speak. It was just sort of something I fell into."

Max's brow creased, nodding along as he tried to make sense of that. I had a feeling he wanted to know some _personal _aspects of my past, particularly acquaintances and the sorts. I was becoming almost guarded now, not wanting to tell him anything _too _personal. I hoped giving Max a story in a nutshell might satisfy him.

"See, once what's-their-names died, I decided it was time to get out of Slateport once and for all, and thankfully, I was successful. I just traveled, and I decided to catch a Pokémon for protection, which happened to be my sweet Cacturne... Or, Cacnea, to be more specific."

"Uh-huh," the boy voiced, urging me to go on.

I waved my hand about in dismissal. "You knew all that already, though," I stated. "What are you _really _prodding in my past for?"

"I'm not!" Max snapped, looking up at me as he walked. "I'm just curious. I mean, I think you know more about me…"

"Do I?" I wondered. "Let's see, I know you're a nerd through and through. I know you love your sister a lot for whatever goddamn reason despite being on bad terms with her. I know you love your daddy plenty. Hmm, that's about it." I then smiled, putting a finger to my lip as if I were thinking. "Oh, _wait, _I also know you're not as innocent as you seem."

"W-What?" he stammered. "Innocent! What are you talking about?"

"Pah, you know what I mean," I went on, still grinning. "You make people believe you're an innocent little boy, but folks like me—those who have seen how tight you wear your undies!—know better. Oh, yes, Max, you're one hell of a faunlet, and you've _never _fooled me."

"Harley!" he shouted, blushing. "That's not the least bit true! I'm twelve years-old!"

"So you are," I reflected, letting out a sigh. "But, no normal twelve year-old would conspire such a devious plan of seducing an older male, such as yours truly."

Max stopped walking. "_Harley_!" he repeated, and oh, glory day, he should've shouted my name all the time. "How can you even _say that_?"

I watched Murkrow fly off his shoulder, flapping its wings forcefully in the air as it flew about, avoiding the volume of Max's voice. I put a hand on my hip, leaning my weight to the left. Now, what I said was purely for play, a way to get a reaction out of Max. I suspected he had an abnormal need to be ravished, but he was oblivious to how he could possibly get another person's attention. But, I was smarter. Oh, no, he would _not _have let me do all those things to him had he not possessed that subconscious desire. Oh, no.

"Relax, darling," I chided in a low voice. "I'm just kidding." I watched his expression soften, considering if I really was joking around or whether I was worming my way out of a statement that got him all upset. I wanted very badly to kneel down and kiss him, feel him push himself into my chest and breathe in my scent.

Max turned, looking at his feet. "Is it really… my fault?"

"Fault!" I echoed in dismay. "Please don't use the word _fault_. I really don't believe it applies to what we've stumbled upon here. And, besides, I really was kidding. I've already explained that this is a mutual thing."

Max's frown deepened a bit more as he said, "You do realize there's a twelve year age difference, right?"

"Sure, I guess," I shrugged out, knowing that Max wanted to talk about this again despite it being a rehash of the conversation we had after the battle between Stantler and Wigglytuff. "But, I'm sure you of all people can relate to not being fond of their own age group."

The boy blinked. "Well…" he trailed off, cocking his head in consideration. "That's because I'm smarter than other kids my age."

I laughed, _knowing _he was going to go in that direction, the little egotistical fuck. "So, compare that to how _stupid _others are who _are_ my age. Reckless, careless, downright _clueless_ above all else." I put up a hand immediately. "And, Max, if you dare say I'm those things I will hurt you."

"I guess I understand," he said, rolling his eyes at my threat. "But, if I can't relate to kids my age, I'm obviously not going to relate to anyone younger, so it's logical I'd get along better with older people. But, you have no reason to want to be around kids my age when there's probably a majority of people _your age_ or older who aren't the things you hate."

I really had no idea what the hell he just actually _said, _but I had an idea of what he was trying to convey, so I nodded. "See, Max, kids your age are a lot more fun to be around. Maybe you'll realize that when you get older and won't get annoyed with them, but _now _you should appreciate the fact I want to be around you at all. I could very easily find someone else to bother."

Murkrow, who had been flying energetically near the top of the trees, came back down, landing on the ground and pecking at it curiously. Max watched his Pokémon for a long moment, most likely avoiding my stare. When he finally looked back up, I had begun walking, and the boy quickly began to walk, too. Away from my view, I heard Murkrow flap its wings to follow.

"Does this all mean…?" Max began to question, letting his sentence slide off.

"Hmm, what?"

"You like younger, uh, guys." He stuttered a bit more, correcting himself with: "Or, boys. Whatever."

"Perhaps," I answered casually, but really my mind was screaming _bingo. _"I know it may sound confusing, but Max, if you could see how you look from my perspective, oh, you'd understand."

Max shook his head, uncomfortable. "I can't believe I got myself into all of this," he muttered.

I felt a pang of guilt, having messed with this kid enough that I couldn't keep track of what I had told him. Apparently, he was starting to believe everything was his "fault," but really, he needed to open those doey brown eyes of his and realize it was taking _both of us _to create this fascinating relationship.

xxxxx

_-Max-_

We had been walking for a good fifteen or twenty minutes before the conversation was finally put to rest again. Although Harley seemed displeased to have to go through that Question and Answer routine, I sort of felt like I got most of my inquiries out there, especially since most of them would eat me alive if I kept them all in. I knew, vaguely, Harley had of a way of just joking around, but I felt, deep down, he meant some of the things he said. I think he was really under the impression I had provoked him to try and further our relationship.

If only I wasn't so embarrassed to admit how clueless I had been about most things before I met Harley. The man knew this, of course, and I would've felt so dumb saying it out loud, but it would've helped just to make sure _he did know. _I mean, this morning had been quite different for the two of us. There was no fighting, no discomfort, no anything. And… because of that, I think I enjoyed it a lot more.

Through the haziness of awakening, I managed to remember the feeling of him stroking my chest, urging me to wake up. It reminded me of when May used to do something similar on the weekends, rocking my body back and forth and waiting for me to wake up so we could have breakfast together. It was always her _scent _that awakened me, though. She'd usually have just taken a shower, and the soapy, flowery scent would float off her, like some magical dust. And, this morning, with Harley, I could smell him: that smoky, metallic scent, which was so different from May, but so comforting and nice.

Then, after Harley woke me up, he revealed to me the breakfast he ordered and then kissed me, and then he wrestled me for a pair of old underwear, and the two of us ended up engaging in some weird situation. How uncommon were the things we did? I had felt so happy and delighted to be in his presence, to have him wake me up, but now I felt uncomfortable and weird. Just like he predicted. But, had he not said that one statement—whether we was joking or not!—I doubted my mood would've suddenly turned.

Murkrow, sitting on my shoulder peacefully, suddenly squawked a few words to me, probably wondering why I had slumped into a moody mess. I had to admit my curiosity was booming about whether or not my Pokémon had any idea what I was going through, not to mention the extent of my relationship with Harley. I had never traveled with anyone before, and his presence was the longest of anyone I had ever bumped into on my journeys.

I gave Murkrow a pat on the head, returning him into its Pokéball for some rest. Now that my eyes weren't focused on the ground, I got a good look at my surroundings. Though nothing had really changed—there were still the trees, the dusty and silvery air, the dirt path—I did spot a small shack-looking building straight ahead of us. There were weeds around the bottom of the structure, covering the beginning cracks running along the wood. The shack was doorless, but there was a sign posted in front of it, and as we got closer, I saw the inside.

The thing was bigger than I thought, and there seemed to be a large majority of fishing equipment inside and other weird things that made it look crowded and old. Apparently, though, there was a fishing route behind the shack. I could see a twisty boardwalk leading around a lake, and just there, I saw a man standing, looking out to the water.

"I think people can fish here," I said.

Harley was not amused. He continued to walk at his normal speed, but stopped to get a good look at the sign advertising a greeting and fees. I stopped behind him, wondering if he was going to consider fishing. I wouldn't have minded, really, but I couldn't see Harley being patient enough to fish. Then again, I wasn't either.

"Let's try, Maximus."

I gaped, surprised. "R-really?"

Harley pointed to the last line on the sign. "First time customers free of charge," he read. "Better than paying some goddamn price to _fish._"

I truly wondered how Harley justified "not wasting money" on hotels compared to this, which was cheap and at least worth something. But, regardless, I was excited by his interest to fish. I didn't expect this from him at all. It was brief, but for a moment, I truly thought he offered just because I was obviously interested. Being selfish when it came right down to it, I decided he most likely had an ulterior motive.

By now, the man was approaching us. He was middle-aged with brown hair only just turning gray around the sides. "Good morning," the man said, extending an arm to shake Harley's hand.

Harley was hesitant, making a momentary grimace before he compiled, reaching out and shaking hands. "It just so happens to be mine, and um," he paused, looking down at me, "_his _first time here."

I was a bit insulted by his labeling of me. I wondered if this was caused by discomfort, a newfound embarrassment of being around me. But, as Harley and the old man talked, I considered that maybe Harley was going to refer to me by one of those many pet names and only _just when_ he was about to spit it out did he realize it might have sounded odd. Was Harley actually ashamed of me? His overall struggle and stutter of my very existence was difficult for me to grasp.

I honestly didn't care if Harley didn't want to go around and tell every living being about, well, _us—_in fact, I was quite relieved, especially given the fact I had a hunch about what people would think.

"I think it's a fine policy," Harley complimented suddenly, and I guessed he was referring to the free charge. Yet, there was something so phony about the tone, and it was slightly disturbing that he continued to act so falsely kind even when he wasn't fond of someone.

The prime example was his early attitude towards May, and I could sense he thought this man right here was annoying.

The man walked into the small shack, coming out and handing us a pair of fishing rods and a red case of lures and bait, too. "If you need anything," the man offered, "don't be hesitant to ask."

"Why thank you," Harley cooed, being overly nice in a way I felt was mocking towards the guy. He even patted the man's shoulder, and since I knew how rough Harley could be, I cringed.

"Do you get many customers?" I wondered, looking up to the older man.

The man shrugged. "It varies," he told me. "I expect today will be busy since it's so nice out. You two just happen to be the first of the day."

I smiled, preparing to ask what kind of Pokémon we'd likely find in the waters, but Harley jabbed me with the end of the fishing rod he was holding, urging me to begin walking to the lake. I turned to glare at him before moving, taking the small path between the bundle of weeds. When I stepped onto the boardwalk, it creaked beneath my weight. The wood itself was splintery and chapped, some boards even missing all together. I was careful to step over some of the more suspicious looking planks until we reached the very end of the boardwalk.

"I swear," Harley began, his voice low in an angry growl, "if I get a splinter in my ass…!"

I took off my backpack and sat down on the ledge. I placed the rod beside me before looking up at Harley who seemed very hesitant to sit on the fragmented planks. I reached up, taking the tin red container from him as he examined the wood carefully. He finally sat down, grumbling about something.

"What do you think we can catch here?" I asked, opening the tin. Inside, there were colorful lures, and I chose the yellow one to hook onto my line.

Harley shrugged, leaning over me so he could pick out a lure. Instead of simply snatching up one, he slung his arm all the way around me, bending his hand down as he selected a green one shaped like an oval. As he attached it to his line, he let his legs dangle off the ledge, finally loosening up about the condition of the boardwalk.

"Maybe I'll catch a Feebas!" I optimistically said, smiling widely as I plopped the end of the line into the water.

"Ooh, a pretty Milotic," Harley mused. "I might have to fight you for it if either one of us ends up catching a Feebas on our lines."

"No way!" I argued. "If it's on _my line _then it's _my catch._"

Harley turned to smirk at me, throwing his line into the water. "All right, darling, whatever you say."

I concentrated on the water's movements, watching as it swished when a Pokémon swam beneath the surface, and in other parts of the lake, rippled violently from the wind's impact. The lake itself was not that big, only spreading out for maybe a mile. On the other side, there appeared to be a boating lodge. There were small canoes lined up against the rickety-looking harbor, and I actually spotted a group of people preparing one.

I turned to face Harley when I heard him exhale roughly. He was concentrating on the water, too, but seemed very bored. I hoped he wasn't, because I would have felt as if it were my doing. He probably wouldn't even be doing this hadn't I been with him. Although I supposed I should've been flattered and touched, I wasn't. I felt bad. Then again, Harley definitely wasn't the type to allow someone to drag him around. He had a backbone—more than one, actually—and if he didn't want to do something, I don't think he would have a problem telling me.

I wasn't sure what to think about this whole traveling together thing, to be honest. I doubted it would last longer than a week. Harley and I constantly being together was just, well, creepy, and I knew, despite what he said, he was probably just sticking around because he enjoyed doing _stuff_, which was still mind-boggling in its own way.

What he had done last night was absolutely strange and uncomfortable, and I knew it had to be wrong on some level. But, he had done it, and I let him, and it had sickeningly brought me enjoyment despite all the pain. Even now, feeling sore and sensitive, I couldn't help thinking back to how he made it feel so good. The fact he knew what to do—how to make it feel good and guide me through the burning stretch—made me wonder exactly how experienced he was with, well, sex. He was _a lot _older, and therefore, I knew he had to have a vast amount of knowledge when it came to it, but knowing how to make _others _feel good meant he had been in the position of discomfort at one point. And, I couldn't quite grasp the concept of Harley being inexperienced when he had been so adept with me.

Who Harley had lost his virginity to began to creep into my mind. I even wondered _when _he lost his virginity. If he truly felt there was nothing wrong with how old I was or the age gap between us, it was possible he could've been around the same age as I was now. I _really _wanted to ask, but was far too cowardly. It would've made me sound like a pervert.

It was odd just hanging around Harley now, sitting next to him without any kind of physical contact. It was like we were just friends or something. I had already figured this wasn't the sort of thing you displayed in front of others, and I was glad, because I really didn't want people to know the kind of things Harley and I had done. But, was engaging in those "activities" (as Harley called it) going to be a part of us traveling together hands down? If so, what did that make Harley and I? Did he even have any intention of labeling it, or was I just sort of this something _for _Harley as opposed to being _something special_? I suddenly felt very used.

I readjusted the fishing line, moving it more towards the left. Harley hummed a tune for a moment then sighed once more. I felt like I needed to say something, and it would've been a great opportunity to question Harley about what I was to him, what he intended to happen between us, and so on. But, I felt like we had already talked about "us" enough for the day, so I held off.

"A tug!"

I looked up. Harley's arms extended and he pulled the rod into the air, hauling it back. I jumped, watching intensely as Harley continued to pull, pure frustration rising in his face as his green hat slid back, and he gritted is teeth. I was tempted to help him. I even began to reach out. But, just then, the line flung out, water splashing around as he stood up in a rush. The Pokémon dangling from the line was thick and curved, white and red scales decorating its body. It gleamed in the sunlight, appearing shiny and glossy just like the horn right above its face. It was a Goldeen.

"Oh, look at this little darling!" Harley beamed, throwing the line over his shoulder to try and get the creature onto the ground. Just as he did, however, the Goldeen flapped even more wildly, allowing the hook caught in its lip to slip off. It fell back into the water, a splash emitting around its landing point. "Damn," Harley cursed, letting out a huff.

I laughed lowly. "That was short-lived."

Harley glared at me, plopping back down onto the boardwalk. "Better progress than you, kiddo." After a moment, a smirk graced his lips, and he said, "This reminds me of when I caught my Remoraid."

I moved my line back towards the right and admitted, "I've never caught a good Water-type. But, it never affected me that much since I used Kirlia against Rock-types."

"Isn't it time you caught yourself one then?" he pondered. He rubbed the back of my neck momentarily, moving his hand up to my cheek.

I shivered under his touch, but I tried my best to let it pass. "Yeah," I simply agreed, distracted by the man's fingers, which were tracing under my ear. He deliberately traced upwards, moving my bangs out of my face. He was looking at me funny, too, as if he were in some sort of trance. I cleared my throat and turned away, looking at the fishing line.

Despite his fear of splinters, Harley moved himself over, sitting close to me so that the sides of our bodies were in full contact. "It's _such _a nice day out," he noted, not even bothering to say anything about the way he moved over.

"I have a feeling it's going to rain again," I muttered, flopping my lure in and out of the water, hoping to get a bite.

Harley rolled his eyes and groaned in a somewhat mock-annoyance. "Then I should prepare myself for you pulling out that poncho?"

I said nothing, not wanting to get into that argument again. Though, truthfully, it felt like eons ago when Harley and I had sat in that hotel lounge and argued over purchasing an umbrella. I also recalled how he grabbed my wrist when I attempted to leave the booth. His nails had dug into my skin, and the _look _in Harley's eyes was both intimidating and spooky. I really hoped he didn't have any intention of drinking again. The strength put into that grab was the exact opposite of how delicately he stroked my face, and certainly that cruel grimace was the opposite of that lusty stare he gave me sometimes.

Thinking back to that day, I sort of felt stupid for having been so taken aback when Harley first kissed me. I mean, the signs were all there. The way he'd go on and on about my looks, the way he'd comment about something for _no reason—_he had been working out some kind of realization of how he felt for me while I was clueless! It all made sense _now, _especially when I considered how he touched me at times. A perfect example was when I called my dad, and Harley had laid his hand over my knee in a possessively comforting way. I had called my father with the intention of wishing him a happy birthday, but I hung up pretty depressed because of May. And, Harley had attempted to comfort me, and, really, he succeeded, even if he possessed an ulterior motive for himself.

Speaking of birthdays… _My _birthday was coming up soon. Last year, my parents had sent me a card and money when I told them what town I would be in by the time my birthday rolled around. They had the card sent to the Pokémon Center, and I figured they'd do the same thing this year if I informed them what town I'd be in next.

"I'm turning thirteen in like three days," I blurted out, watching the water. It was more of an attempt to fill the silence, rather than a blatant need for him to know about the date.

At the sound of my statement, I saw Harley's fishing line jerk, a result of his own surprise. "Oh, my!" he exclaimed. "Max, your birthday is coming up?"

"Um, yes," I answered, hoping he wouldn't accuse me of telling him because I wanted something. I truly didn't. I just wanted him to know I would be turning _thirteen, _the official age of being considered a teenager.

"Max!" he chirped. "Oh, I'm gonna have to remember this," he said through a grin.

"Why?"

"What do you mean, _why_?" he scoffed. "Birthdays are special. And, so are _birthday boys._"

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "But, I'll be a teenager technically."

"You're still a boy," he insisted rather pleasantly. "But, I'm glad you told me. Nothing worse than having no one remember the day you were _born._"

"Who remembers _your_ birthday?" I asked.

Harley sneered, his mood shifting. "Excuse me," he snarled, "lots of people do!"

I hadn't meant for my statement to sound rude, but now I did sort of doubt enough people remembered Harley's birthday. As far as I knew, Harley didn't really know anyone at all. People he was acquainted with, such as May and Drew, were definitely not his friends. I shrugged my shoulders at Harley, and emphasized again, "_Who_?"

"Friends," he asserted, but his lack of further explanation continued to make me feel doubtful. "I've met quite some interesting people over the years. But, the thing is, birthdays mean less when you get older. Once the cake and candles no longer strike your fancy, what's the point?"

"Well, since I've been traveling, I haven't really had parties," I pointed out. "But, I usually get cards and money."

The right corner of Harley's mouth turned up in a grin. "Ah, well, we should make this upcoming birthday fun."

"No thanks," I declined. "I'm used to not making my birthday a big deal. I like it better that way, actually."

"Oh, whatever," the man dismissed. Then, in a happier tone, "Oh, I'm so excited now! My mind is just brewing up some fun, it really is."

I was actually pretty weary of what "fun" meant in Harley's book. In a way, I regretted telling him at all, because I should've known he'd get all excited like this and make a big deal out of nothing. Before I could argue against his plans, however, my line suddenly tugged.

"I got something!" I shouted, leaping to my feet without hesitation.

Harley leaned back to watch me struggle, pulling with all my might. Whatever I caught was trying to get away, desperately attempting to swim one way as I tried to pull it the other. I almost lost my balance as the creature thrashed in the water, but I quickly readjusted my grip on the fishing pole and continued hauling it in with the reel. Harley then looked into the water, trying to examine whatever it was in there.

"It looks like a whachamacallit!"

"That's not very helpful!" I breathed out, continuing to pull stubbornly.

"A, um, a…" Harley snapped his fingers, trying to think of the Pokémon's name as he continued to stare into the lake.

Beneath the water, I saw a shimmering light and a blue fin beating against the surface moment by moment. I kept pulling, stepping backwards and swinging the pole over my shoulder the best I could.

Harley clapped his hands together and revealed, "A Lanturn, that's it!"

I kept pulling, my feet even sliding against the wooden planks. When I stumbled forward, Harley finally noticed my struggle, getting up quickly and preparing to help. I flushed even before he touched me, my entire body heating up at the knowledge his hands were about to be on my hips. When I felt his palms clutch around me, I stiffened, my strength lessening in the pull. I then felt the older man's arms clasp around my underarms, yanking me aggressively against his chest. The change startled me. I let go of the pole, and the sudden cease of force made Harley stumble, falling backwards with me still in his arms. The rod hit the water and floated against the surface as the Pokémon dashed off without a bit of hesitation.

I let out a frustrated sigh but didn't move. "Shoot…" I muttered, truly disappointed.

Harley let out a loud sigh as well. But, he bent his knees, putting his hands on my shoulders and pulling me against his chest in a more comforting way. "Sorry, Maximus," he said, patting my back.

I pulled away and stood up angrily. "Was it really a Lanturn?" I asked, looking out towards the middle of the lake and seeing the fishing rod continue to float along the surface.

"Looked that way," Harley said, getting up and dusting himself off. "I didn't mean to startle you," he then stated.

Arms still folded, I frowned deeply and huffed. "I know. It was my fault. You just kind of, I dunno, made me nervous."

The man took off his hat, shaking his head to adjust his hair before putting it back on. He moved a strain behind his ears and chuckled. "Oh, you poor thing," he consoled, smiling. He looked out to the lake, covering his brow with a flat palm to block the sun. "Well, you lost the fishing pole."

"It hasn't even been an hour," I complained.

Harley shrugged and looked down at his fishing rod he left lying on the boardwalk. "We can still fish."

"I don't even feel like it now," I went on, letting my shoulders sag.

Harley seemed almost slightly annoyed with my negative mood. But, he tried to comfort me anyway, approaching me slowly to pull me into another embrace. I noticed it lacked his normal affection, so I moved away, looking up at him with doubt.

He rose his brow, intrigued with how I recognized the difference. "What would May think if you got this down on yourself?" he wondered, his tone sly and curious.

I groaned in disdain. "Don't even try that," I muttered.

"Well, it helps to think about your rivals in moments of doubt. It helps you win back that _strive_." He folded his arms, nodding thoughtfully.

"May's not my rival," I told him. "Come to think of it, I've never battled her."

A surprised expression washed over Harley's face. "You would've beaten her," he assured, but it seemed so phony.

"Stop it," I ordered, rolling my eyes. I reached down to grab my bag. "I want to go now."

"What a quitter!" Harley exclaimed, but he didn't seem disappointed. He picked up his fishing rod and the red tin, slinging the rod over his shoulder in preparation to begin walking.

"This just reminds me why I don't like to fish," I grunted. "Besides, it takes too long!"

As he began walking back to the small shack, he said, "I agree, but this wasn't my idea." He then added, "It wasn't a complete waste of time, though."

"Why? Because I told you my birthday was coming up?" I wondered.

"Yes," he replied. "I have a feeling if you didn't tell me then, you would've never told me."

"I might have…" I said, shrugging.

Near the shack, the man was sitting and reading some sort of book. He looked up when he heard us approaching, raising his eyebrows high. "Giving up so soon?"

Harley nodded, returning the rod and tin. "Yes, it seems little Max here has no patience. Kids, you know?"

I glared at him when he looked down at me, smiling. The man laughed anyway and then asked, "Where's the other pole?"

"Max also has no strength. So, he lost it in the water."

"Harley!" I shouted, my face turning red.

The man didn't seem to care, though, because he just waved his hand in the air to dismiss it. "It happens all the time," he revealed. "But, do come back if you ever have the chance."

Harley smiled in an exaggerated way. "Thank you. We just might!"

"You didn't have to say that," I complained softly, heading back on the dirt path.

"I think I did. I mean, it's true, right?" he suggested, digging messily into his bag as he walked.

"What do you think you'd be doing if you weren't here with me?" I suddenly asked.

Harley cocked his head, placing a cigarette he dug out from his box in his mouth. "Hmm…" he wondered, lighting up the stick. "Maybe I would be drinking out of boredom." He sucked in some of the tobacco, letting some out and causing the forest air to smell soggy and stagnant. The white smoke looked even more dusty than usual. "But, I think I would be asleep at this very given moment," he added.

"And, for the rest of the day…?"

"Probably nothing of interest," he explained. "Unless random binge drinking is interesting. Hmm, speaking of which, I really _could go _for a drink."

I sighed. "Smoking and drinking," I muttered, watching Harley blow out some smoke through his nose. "You're a real winner, you know that?"

"Ha!" the man exclaimed mockingly. "Oh, my love, you're too young and pure to understand."

In a weird way, I considered the drinking worse than the smoking because at least cigarettes did not change his _personality. _And, what did he call me _now_? My love? That was a new one and officially my least favorite. I really wanted to know why Harley had to give me a pet name in the first place. It was ridiculously humiliating. I let the silence creep over us for the first time all day, allowing it to stay that way for the rest of the time in the forest.

After a good hour or so, I spotted a large sign advertising our arrival in Mahogany Town. The town was actually quite busy with so many people bustling through the streets, mostly trainers. I immediately saw the Gym, which stood out so well from the other buildings. It was a plain, old looking place and several people were loitering right in front of it.

"The Gym!" I announced, breaking the silence.

Harley gave me a somewhat startled look. "Shouldn't you train?" he asked.

I figured he was mocking me more than anything else, but he was right, and in reality, I didn't really have any intention of battling today. A couple of good practice battles would benefit me, and Stantler needed to work on his attacks.

"Well, yeah," I admitted, "but I just can't wait! It'll be my sixth badge, Harley!"

Harley gave me a smile. "We need to stop by the Center so I can have my Pokémon sent over," he stated. "Then, maybe the two of us can have another little battle, hmm?"

"Sounds fine to me," I excitedly said, just knowing it would be preparation for my Gym Battle. I sprinted forward a little bit and shouted, "Come on!"

I started running towards the Center, flying by many trainers. Behind me, I heard Harley groan, beginning to walk faster but not running. I raced, continuing fast and urgently until I burst through the doors of the Center. I turned to see if Harley was nearby as I caught my breath. Way behind, Harley managed to make it, not even bothering to keep a speedy pace anymore.

"Good for you," he commented dully. "I don't race people, though. I'm not much of a runner, darling." He gave me some sort of faux grin.

I frowned, not expecting such a negative reaction. But, I just shrugged and said, "Fine, but you're just angry I beat you."

Harley shook his head. "You would've felt bad had I actually participated. I could've been badly injured." He searched around the lobby suddenly, then said, "I should get my Pokémon transferred over now." He spotted the line of videophones and began walking over, trying to get something out of his bag once again.

I followed, wondering if maybe calling my parents now would be a good idea. I had just called a couple of days ago, and I talked to Kenny yesterday, but they would definitely be curious as to where I would be on my birthday. But, I really did not want to call in front of Harley. I'd have to ask him to go away while I called, given the fact the phones here were videophones. I could only imagine what my father would say if he saw Harley lurking behind me. I wasn't sure if he'd remember Harley from any of their past encounters, but my mother sure would from the Hoenn Grand Festival.

In a way, I almost _wanted to _see what would happen if I did tell them about Harley and I spending time together. Of course, I knew deep down I would never gain the courage to do that, but if I did, would they know what I really meant? Would they know that Harley and I had, well, done things? I was tempted to believe they wouldn't care, but that was a lie. They would freak out, especially my father. For one, he'd probably think Harley had molested me, and while that was sort of true, I knew everything had, in fact, been consensual despite my uncertainty. If I told my parents that, would they be okay with it then?

Shame washed through me at that instance, knowing that they could never accept it no matter what. If they couldn't, that must have meant there was something wrong with what Harley and I were doing. He said there wasn't. And, something that was so intense, something that felt so good… how could that be considered wrong and unacceptable?

I looked up at Harley who was busy dialing a number on the videophone. Apparently, he had pulled out a small address book from his bag, which was now placed on the small counter. He was waiting for an answer, but since he was using the receiver, I wouldn't be able to hear what the other end was saying. I kept looking at the screen anyway, waiting to see who was going to answer.

Finally, a woman appeared on screen. She was young looking, maybe a little older than Harley and had brown hair down to her upper-arms. She was thin and very pretty for someone who was a Pokémon caretaker. She smiled immediately at the realization it was Harley calling. Her lips moved in an excited way, her entire mouth moving up into a deep smile as she talked and talked.

"It's nice to talk to you, too," Harley said jovially. "Yes, I've been very busy," he then answered.

I continued to peer from behind Harley, watching the woman gesture her arms around as she told some story. Harley was nodding, his lips turned up in his own smile. But, his smile wasn't like the ones he gave me and that settled the weird knot in my stomach. It was really stupid, but I realized I didn't like this woman simply because Harley knew her, and she caused him to smile _at all_. I mean, it was _really _stupid, especially since Harley didn't even like women. But, I felt… jealous, I think. I was angry that he wasn't paying attention to me. Was that normal? This dislike for a stranger wasn't natural, but I did sense that I wasn't fond of her because I wasn't familiar with any kind of interaction Harley and her had. And, I really _hated _not knowing things.

After a while of meaningless jibble, Harley got to the point and stated, "I'd like you to transfer two of my Pokémon here, if that's all right with you."

The woman nodded, saying a few things before disappearing from the screen. Harley turned around now, looking down at me with a suspicious grin. "What?" he wondered, but I knew he could read my exact thoughts at the moment.

I made a pathetic attempt to hide what I was thinking by shrugging. He ended up putting a hand to his mouth, laughing lowly as he tilted his head.

"Don't be silly, Maximus," he consoled without really revealing what he was talking about. But, I knew. He then waved his hand about and said, "And, don't worry either. I'm not going to tell her a damn thing about you. She's too stupid to even notice you anyway."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" I asked, frowning.

Harley shrugged broadly, looking back at the screen for a second before bending down and kissing me fully on the mouth. It was so quick and fast, but it was a complete kiss: a brief contact of lips, tongues and teeth. He stood back up properly, returning to face the screen. My complexion flushed, taken aback by how quick the kiss was, but also how public it was, too. I began looking around the lobby, trying to see if anyone had saw the liplock. But, no one was paying attention. I exhaled.

The lady returned on the screen a moment later, explaining some more stuff and pointing to Harley's right where the Pokéball transfer machine was located. Being able to read her lips at her last sentence, I realized she asked, "Which Pokémon would you like?"

And, just as I suspected, Harley answered, "Hmm, I want my darling Sneasel and Totodile."

The lady nodded and began messing with something I couldn't see on-screen. Harley then pressed something on the transfer machine. Soon, a bright light emitted in the main area of the device, a round shape forming instantly and relaxing against the metal as it safely arrived.

"Ah!" Harley exclaimed, picking up the ball. "Oh, my little Totodile!" he said, examining the circular thing. He then pressed something on the machine, and the routine repeated a second time. Distracted by placing the Pokéballs into his bag, I decided to take the address book resting on the counter so I could look through it. I was definitely curious as to who was in there and why.

I looked up to the screen real quick, and the lady continued to talk, seeming to chide Harley for something before she gave a small wave.

"All right then. Talk to you again! Bye!" Harley smiled thoughtfully and then hung up.

I flipped through the book, discovering most of the pages were empty. He had business cards taped in various sections, most of them being for hotels and a couple for hair salons, which humored me. On the very last page, there were scribbles everywhere, all phone numbers and illegible names. I could make out just a few, and they were all male names. I frowned immediately.

Suddenly, the book was grabbed out of my grip. Harley waved the small item in his hand, telling me, "Is this really any of your business?"

I thought for sure it was, but I would've felt stupid explaining why I thought so. It only took me a few seconds to collect my thoughts and stutter out: "So, who are all those names in the back?"

A quick change in expression flickered in him, but I couldn't tell if it was shock, uncertainty or embarrassment. I ruled out the latter since Harley never became flustered, and since he had such a cocky smile on his face all of the sudden, I realized that Harley wasn't even taking my question seriously.

"Friends," he assured me dryly. "See, I have some."

"I'm sure," I muttered, narrowing my eyes. "But, what _kind_?"

Harley's eyes closed just slightly, gleaming oddly as though what I was asking didn't even matter. "Given the tone your using," the man began, "I think you already know."

Was that supposed to make me feel _better_? I sighed heavily, knowing there was no reason I should've been surprised by Harley's long list of not-just-acquaintances. What I _was _surprised about, however, was the fact he kept their numbers. At least that proved Harley wasn't as—what, anonymous?—as I thought. Still, knowing he had been with other guys made me very uncomfortable. Was I just another one of those who he'd eventually get tired of?

Bothered, but not wanting to get into it right now, I asked Harley, "So, are you going to let your Pokémon out?"

"Yes, but, first thing's first… I think we ought to find a hotel." Harley leaned down, putting a single finger against my lips forcefully. "And, _no, _don't even tell me that since we're at the Pokémon Center we should just stay here, because I'd rather _die._"

Since I wasn't even going to suggest it, I slapped his hand away, annoyed. But, Harley laughed, urging me to face the other direction and walk towards the exit. He kept close to me the entire time, using his thighs to push me along in a very weird way. Again, I considered how tall he was compared to me, thinking about how he simply had to get on his knees to kiss me properly. If that annoyed Harley, I wouldn't blame him, but I felt like it was _my _fault for being so short.

Outside, Harley began scanning around. "Now, there's gotta be one somewhere around here," the man said.

"They are all probably around the busier part of town," I admitted, moving away from his leaning touch and looking up to him.

"And, there should be food there, too," he noted, beginning to walk.

"Have you ever heard about the Red Gyarados?"

Harley looked at me, puzzled. "Yes, I have, but I heard someone caught it, so if you're cruising to capture it, you're too late."

"I know that," I said, glaring. "And, I _met _the man who caught it! Lance, from the Elite Four."

Harley sucked in his lower lip and mused over the name. "Those Elite Four fucks think they know everything," he complained.

It was a pretty dumb thing to say, but very typical of Harley since he never wanted to admit someone being better than him. Even with my father he only ever seemed to express admiration for his knowledge, not so much him being more experienced with battling and information. Being so conceited and catty, it was no wonder why he got so upset when people proved to be better than him. His mind seemed incapable of grasping the whole concept.

"Well, Lance was nice," I eventually acknowledged. "You know, without his help Ash would never have been able to stop Team Aqua and Mag—"

"Would my Maximus like some ice cream?" he interrupted, raising his eyebrows.

I blinked several times, unsure where the question came from until I saw an ice cream cart ahead of us. "I am hungry," I admitted, "but that's not much of a meal."

Harley either didn't hear my last part of the sentence or was ignoring me, because he simply walked over to where the man was selling ice cream and greeted him politely. Before he ordered, he looked down at me and asked, "So, what will it be, Maximus?"

For some strange reason, I felt like he was trying to distract me from something. And, I gaped, not feeling as though I was in any position to answer that question, even though he was asking me. Harley was kind enough to treat me to food, but he also had a way of making me feel too nervous to accept the offer. I continued to just stare at him, watching his a long feline-like smirk form. It disappeared all the sudden, and I realized I had taken too long to answer.

Harley looked at the salesman and said, "I believe he wants chocolate."

Before opening the freezer in the cart, the salesman looked at me, making sure I wanted that. I shrugged helplessly, and so he began scooping out the ice cream onto a cone. Harley had asked for nothing even though I was certain he had to be hungry. Whatever the case, I was handed the small cone by the guy, and Harley paid.

"I don't know why you clam up when someone offers you something."

I furrowed my brow, looking at Harley in confusion when we continued walking towards the busier side of town. I hadn't even _said _anything. It was true that I wanted to ask if I could pay him back, but knowing he'd refuse and probably say something mean, I kept quiet.

"I didn't say anything," I voiced out loud.

"H_eeell_o, that's the problem," he asserted, shrugging out his arms as if to emphasize the obviousness.

The ice cream didn't really look appetizing now, but I took a small taste of it anyway, licking around the circumference of the cone so that it wouldn't start to melt down the edge. Harley put a hand on my shoulder, a comforting gesture that actually lacked any naturalness. I avoided looking at him, so instead, I ate rather unhealthily large morsels from the cone, causing a quick brain freeze.

The man kept his hand there as we approached the busier section of town. I noticed a change in building sizes, an increase in people, and finally, an orderly development of sidewalks in place of the paths we were walking on now. The streets were becoming more crowded, so I busied myself by biting off some of the cone, again licking around the circular shape to ensure no dripping.

Harley removed his hand suddenly. I ended up looking up, seeing him point excitedly towards a building as he exclaimed, "That looks like somewhere fine to stay."

The building he pointed at was tall, but only when compared to all the other smaller ones around it. It looked just as fancy as the one in Goldenrod and Ecruteak, although I could tell there was something different about it, but what was funny was that we were passing a lot of cheaper hotels, yet they all looked so fair and acceptable in my eyes. Harley would've disagreed, which is why I shrugged at his excitement towards the hotel and said to him:

"It looks nice."

"I'm so fucking in the mood for a drink…"

Being the second time today he mentioned "a drink," meaning alcohol, I had a feeling he would be participating in some later in the afternoon. Being that he neglected the substance in the last two days, I had almost forgotten about his penchant, and I was a bit worried about how his behavior would alter if had some tonight. Though, truthfully, when he had that vodka or whatever when we were at the hotel in Goldenrod, he handled it well without any noticeable change. But, still… the memory of him grabbing me in the booth was a bit unsettling.

"It's pretty early," I threw out, hoping to avoid a long silence. It meant nothing to him, though. If he had been drinking that early a couple of days ago, seeming so comfortable and calm, I suspected he did it regularly.

Harley pushed me closer to him on the street, urging us to walk aligned. Although I was uncomfortable with the jammed crowd on the street, I felt like he was being very possessive, not wanting me to even brush up against another person. I continued eating the ice cream, having to bite through the cone to get the melted stuff at the bottom. From the corner of my eye, I sensed him watching, and this reminded me of when we first met, and he bought me the ice cream sundae. The way he would watch with a smile and a gleam in his eye disturbed me then, and seeing partly the same look now, I felt the discomfort creep into me.

Moistening his bottom lip, he asked, "You ate that pretty fast. What if I had wanted some?"

I considered the various reasons that provoked this, and none of them were even the least bit clean or wholesome. I knew he was expecting some kind of facial reaction so I did not give him one; I gave a poker face, deadpanned and still. We stepped down onto the street, having to cross it to get to the other sidewalk. The hotel was just ahead of us, but to the left, there was a park, small and desolate, but occupied by several trainers with their Pokémon. This interested me, so I stopped walking, finishing the rest of my ice cream cone and examining what each trainer was doing.

Harley noticed my halt immediately. He stopped, too, raising an eyebrow. He quickly caught on to my view, and assumed, "You want to battle."

I shrugged. "This might be a nice place to train, yes," I told him, "but, I don't think my Stantler needs to battle. I think he needs to work on his attacks alone."

Harley clapped his hands together suddenly. "Oh, then let's go over there!" he shouted, grabbing my hand. His fingers encircled mine, pulling me over to the park. It didn't take long to realize this was the first time that he held my hand, not my wrist. "You still want to see my darlings, after all."

My body heat rose from his tight grip around my palm. I tugged it away, not wanting him to feel my sweat. I looked up at the sky, which was so bright and friendly, but suspiciously vulnerable for change. There were many clouds in the sky, a few darker than others, and I felt, once more, a downpour was on its way.

Harley pulled out his sunglasses, putting them on as we walked over to the clear field of a park. The grass was still damp from the dewy morning, but further into the area it was smooth and dry. Some of the trainers were sitting down with their Pokémon, while other people were just relaxing and chatting amongst themselves. I was quick to throw out Stantler's ball, letting him out and having him land right in front of me.

Harley had his hands on his hips, scanning the entire field. When I slowed down, he suggested, "Let's go further over there." He pointed towards a solitary section, very absent of the trees and benches that took up space everywhere else. The man continued to walk, and strangely, Stantler followed as if Harley's presence had become so normal that the creature knew he was with me.

Harley and I were now alienated from everyone else, which made me feel like they all were watching us. Harley threw his bag and hat on the grass, retaining a single Pokéball in his hand. He stepped foward, throwing it out into the air so the creature inside burst out, revealing itself in a high jump. It was his Totodile. And, from my memory, it looked about the same size as Ash's had been, but it was so obvious that it did not have the same personality. Instead of dancing about with excitement, it turned on its feet, looking up to Harley with quite the angry face.

Harley laughed. He got on his knees, opening his arms and saying, "Oh, my poor baby! I'm so sorry for the time we spent apart."

The creature considered the apology and ended up jumping into Harley's arms, pushing its small head against the man's chest. I walked over, bending down a little with Stantler by my side. I gave the scaly blue Pokémon a pleasant smile, and it seemed curious to know who I was and why I was with Harley.

"Hi!" I greeted. "Nice to meet you."

Harley lifted the creature, hugging it once more before turning it in his arms so it faced me. "This, _Toto_," he began, eyeing me fully since we were at the same height, "is my little Maximus, who makes your trainer feel not-so lonely and _very happy._"

I gave a doubtful look. Harley had been everything _but_ lonely, that was sure. As conceited and selfish as Harley tended to be, it would truly be a miracle if he even ever realized he was traveling alone all the time. I was tempted to just blow off the introduction all together, but I thought the open-mouth smile on Totodile was way too cute to ignore. I reached out and petted its head. It made a happy snarl.

"Isn't he adorable?"

I nodded slowly. When my tall Stantler walked a bit closer, Harley put down Totodile so the two could introduce themselves to each other. Stantler bowed its head and the two began talking.

"Aww, it looks like we have ourselves a pair of future close pals," Harley basically squealed. "And, this is good, considering their trainers have quite the relationship!" The man raised his eyebrows suggestively, moving forward to kiss me. He smiled through it, making the quick liplock lack a fair amount of contact.

I put up a hand, pushing Harley gently away when he tried to attempt another kiss. "Stop. It's embarrassing." It was a bit hypocritical to say considering how bothered I had been when Harley struggled to say my name to the fisherman. But, this was different; this was a physical touch, a very revealing indicator of what Harley and I were to each other… whatever that _really _was...

Harley repositioned himself, sitting down on the grass cross-legged. "Oh, really," he sighed in disappointment. He then twirled some hair around his index finger and adjusted his sunglasses. "I assume you have no more of those saucy little undies, do you?"

"N-No," I answered. I blushed, turning away from his stare as I sat down, too.

"Don't get me wrong, because I _adore _the little things you were wearing before, but there was truly something magical about those tight ones you claim were old."

"They were," I blandly stated.

The man chuckled. "So, is it safe to assume there's a drawer full of those back home?"

"Harley, please!" I shouted, rolling my eyes. "Why do our conversations always have to go this direction?"

Giving a sincere shrug, he smiled innocently and told me, "The thoughts just come to mind, Maximus." He looked past me towards the hotel. "You know, night is an awfully long time away."

"I know that," I blurted out, though I had caught on to his clearly suggestive undertone. "It's like noon, and yet you're desperate for alcohol and sex!"

This made Harley give one of those chortles. "I never thought you'd say the word, dear," he admitted, his eyes glimmering with amusement. "I must say, I like hearing it from you."

"Don't you realize things are different when we're alone… and when we're in public?" I wondered.

"I have to admit, Max, I do not like that statement one bit," he said to me. "It makes me feel like there's a set time for when and where I can see Maximus for who he really is." Harley leaned back to support his weight on his arms. "So, is _that _why you have a terrible habit of switching moods on me?" he asked.

"I don't know," I muttered. "Maybe…"

"If so," he started, devilishly smiling, "we ought not go out that often."

"It doesn't change the fact it's _noon,_" I complained, watching Stantler and Totodile, who had walked over to a tree, going under the shade. Totodile looked so small compared to Stantler, and it sort of reminded me how much smaller I looked when next to Harley.

"Noon, midnight—_whatever. _There's never a set time for when people can screw, Max," he told me in a lecture-like tone.

I began to blush again, looking down. "Why does it matter if we—um, yeah—again?" I said it so lowly that I wasn't sure he heard.

A laugh escaped Harley before he mockingly echoed, "_Um, yeah,_ huh?"

I gave him a helpless sort of look, the kind that revealed I really wanted my question answered.

"Do you really have to ask?" He rubbed my back comfortingly, asking, "So, what would you say if I wanted to, huh? Are you really against something we've already done? Unless, of course, you're in a sincere amount of pain, which I doubt, because I've been watching you walk, and you look fine!"

"Pain?" I mused before biting my lip in embarrassment. "Uh, well, um… no, I'm fine."

But, I hadn't really thought about it all day. The pain was almost nonexistent now, though if I moved a certain way I could feel a sting. It was almost greedy and savage for him to ask. I mean, granted, he was asking because he wanted to make sure I was okay, but he was also asking because he was desperate to do it again, and that was so insulting. Why did he have to be so concerning like that but express such stern and persistent suggestions beneath?

Harley gave a quick grin, turning it into an exaggerated frown of concern. "I don't like seeing you in pain," he voiced lowly. "But, it's not that hard to get used to."

"I, uh…" I stuttered again, getting uncomfortable and readjusting my weight. "I was sort of wondering, and I hope it's not rude to ask, but have you ever let someone do, um, that?"

"You mean what I did to you?" he asked, mocking my way of not quite saying the real words. "Have I ever been on the receiving end, so to speak?" Harley laughed childishly, covering his mouth and smiling widely.

"Well, yeah, I guess," I muttered, annoyed by how he was treating my questions.

"Of course I have," he replied before I had the opportunity to say something else. "And, I like it either way, but when it comes to sweet things like you, I prefer being the one doing the work." He then playfully hit me on the shoulder. "Though, I would appreciate some more movement once and awhile."

Completely red, I turned away from him and babbled out, "Oh, um, sorry, but um… so…"

This sent Harley into a full-fledged laugh. He held his ribcage to control the cramping of losing his breath, continuing to basically cackle. I glared at him, wanting so badly to just, well, _hit him. _I was too scared to actually do that, but I did manage to swat at his knee, giving him an insulted look.

"This isn't funny!" I shouted.

"Oh, but it is," he went on, laughter mixing in his words. He managed to calm down enough to intelligently say, "Max, I _adore you._" He straightened his sunglasses, which had slipped down due to the amount of energy he put into laughing.

I furrowed my brow, wondering how on earth laughing at me qualified as any kind of adoration. I huffed, then said, "I was trying to ask you a question, Harley."

"I know, I know. Go ahead." He stifled the last of his laughter, then smiled.

"I wanted to know when you first—" I cut myself off and made a gesture of my hands.

There was a look of either pride or reminiscence on Harley's face. His crooked smile revealed he was thinking more about it than he was going to talk, but he did say, "Max, I believe I was a year or two older than you, to be honest." His voice was almost in a lecturing tone. "So, aside from beating your sister at losing your virginity, you also lost it younger than me. Quite an accomplishment!"

Instead of getting embarrassed, I became offended. "And, how can that be _normal_?" I demanded. "I would never have done any of this had it not been for you!"

Harley messed with his hair again, wondering, "So, if you befriended a man who wasn't me would you have done 'any of this' if he wanted to? Figuratively, of course."

I narrowed my eyes and stood up. "I don't know. I doubt there's any other man who would've wanted to. Plus, who says I'd even like a man who wasn't… well, um, you?"

And, unfortunately, this made Harley brighten up and then stand, too. "Well, thank you for that! But, why wouldn't he, Max? I find it very hard to believe I'm the first man to strike an interest in you. And, by the way, I'm thrilled to know you _like me._" The cocky grin never left Harley's face.

I couldn't have been all that embarrassed by his statement, though. It was already obvious that I had to feel something for him. There was no way I couldn't have when we had already done so many… _things… _I mean, what I felt was a bit obscure, sure, but I wasn't going to make any kind of excuse for it. I never thought these real, sincere feelings—the kind I had read about, heard of, but wasn't convinced existed—would ever develop for another man. Another very older, very catty, very eccentric man.

Now I felt it was best to drop the whole conversation. I called Stantler over, and the sudden yell made Harley give a curious look. When Stantler—and Totodile, who had followed—walked up to us, I looked at my Pokémon and wondered, "Do you want to practice your Tackle with Totodile? It might benefit you more than just battling."

Stantler gave an interested look before turning to Totodile. The blue Pokémon looked at Harley, and the man shrugged as if to say he thought it was a good idea or didn't care. Stantler began scraping its hoof against the ground. He looked as if he were readying himself for battle, but the expression on his face was anything but threatening. Probably wanting to play more than anything else, Totodile skipped across a patch of grass, giving a dodging gesture. It squawked in its own excitement, wanting to practice/play with Stantler eagerly.

Harley shrugged and said, "Good, then this gives time for me and my Maximus to talk more."

I watched Stantler give a friendly little look at its would-be opponent, and I realized the two had already made friends with each other. This made me feel better about not having a real battle. I looked up at Harley with a flat expression, telling him, "I'm not sure there's much more to talk about."

"There's _always _something to talk about," he insisted, pulling my arm as he sat back down on the ground. I was forced to sit, too, though I quickly readjusted myself so I was further away from Harley.

"You know, I wanted to call my parents back at the Center," I revealed. "I couldn't, though. I felt too intimidated by you being around."

"Is that so?" Harley wondered, raising his eyebrows high. Surprisingly, he didn't seem all that insulted. "You must have thought I was going to force myself to be seen on the videophone's screen."

Since his statement was certainly not a question, I replied, "My parents wouldn't have known what to think. Especially my mom, who met you."

"Norman met me!" Harley quickly harked back.

"I know, but do you think he really remembers you? You're just another clouded face within all the other fans who he's met."

"That's not fair to say!" Harley yelled. "You're implying I'm not memorable, Max!"

I backed down a bit, lowering my nagging tone. "Well… um," I stuttered, very alarmed by his reaction. "My dad has met _tons _of people. You can't blame him."

"Whatever," he huffed angrily. "The point here is that you didn't want your parents to know you're escorting around an older, saucier male, who you just happened to—"

I cut him off quickly and firmly with: "Can you blame _me_?"

The man gave a casual shrug. "You should have more faith in me to not screw up your phone call with revelations of what you're doing on your personal time."

From Harley's tone, I could tell he wasn't all that upset. He was simply stating a point, and now I felt bad. I told him, "Well, it's true that you haven't really… _flaunted _anything about us yet."

"See, Max, you _should _have more faith in me," he restated. "Minutes ago you told me there's a difference between being in private and being in public. And, I respect that… I think. Granted, maybe I will ravish you in front of others when I have a chance, but it's nobody's goddamn business unless we want it to be."

"I just thought you would…" I muttered.

"Actually, there's nothing more I'd like than to shove you in someone's face, tease them about how you're _mine _and how they'll never have the opportunities I've had," he said quickly.

_Mine_? Mine? What did that mean? I didn't belong to him. He had blurted all that out and his sentence wasn't even that complete, so I shook it off, hoping that he hadn't realized or meant to say it. I simply wondered, "Then why don't you?"

"Because I haven't had the chance," he restated.

"But, I _know _this isn't exactly normal, Harley." I narrowed my eyes and added, "Despite what you say."

"I _don't _believe there's anything wrong here," the man stressed. "It may be abnormal how much you make me want you, but we're dealing with that, no?"

"Harley—"

The man put up a hand to silence me. "This is about the third time we've had this conversation. And, it's getting us nowhere. I would like to think the sweet, responsive temperament you displayed this morning can carry out through many other days. I don't want this to be some big fucking circle of this and that, that and this. We'll both get bored." He sighed and then widened his eyes as he added, "So, can we just let this play out for what it's worth?"

xxxxx

_-Harley- _

I stared at Max, very intent on getting his answer. But, there were various flashes of expressions on the boy, the first being cluelessness. Then, somehow, it developed into consideration.

"You have an incredible way of making me feel really dumb, Harley."

I blinked. "I assure you that's not my intention." I tried brightening my tone when I continued, "I just don't want to have these conversations over and over. I really hate that."

Max shrugged for some reason. "I enjoyed this morning," he admitted. "I mean, not what happened with my, um, underwear—I'm not saying _that _wasn't, um—" the boy gave up, cutting himself off and just looking at me blankly.

"The breakfast," I concluded for him and watched him nod. "I told you every morning could be like that. And, I meant it."

And, for the first time in a bloody while, the boy smiled. He looked over to our Pokémon, who were still chasing each other around, not really practicing battle moves, but _playing. _I felt like he really wanted me to touch him, but I knew if I did, he would try and fight it just to prove one of his dumb points. Because of this, I was slow when I reached out to pat his knee. Max returned his gaze on me, just catching sight of my face before I leaned backwards, lying down on the grass lazily.

I felt very tired, having been active all morning. We had walked a good two or three miles to get to Mahogany Town, and I knew the two of us deserved a good rest. Besides that, my upper-arms were sore as hell from fishing, which was pretty pathetic. The sun was still burning bright, but I was able to lie on my back nicely, staring up at the sky with the help of my sunnies. There were many clouds in the sky, and I considered Max's prediction it was going to rain.

Max, still sitting up, cocked his head to look at me correctly. He noticed the way I was staring up at the sky and looked, too. Distracted by the clouds, I pulled his arms, forcing him to lie back with me. The boy was startled at first, jolting at my rough pull and trying to stay sitting. But, I tugged some more, and he slowly—very slowly—lied back with me. I turned to look at him, raising my eyebrows in a friendly way.

"What?" he wondered.

"Nothing," I assured, reaching to move some bangs out of his face.

Max lifted his head and looked around the entire park to make sure, just like in the forest outside Ecruteak, no one was watching. Seeming convinced no one was, he allowed my touches, settling down on his back again as he stared at the sky, squinting. Since he wasn't looking in my direction, I could only gently stroke the side of his face, rubbing under his chin and down his neck. His skin was endearingly soft and smooth. I suddenly remembered how that felt and tasted under my tongue, and I couldn't help making a noise in the back of my throat.

Max looked at me awkwardly, seeming to comprehend why I made the noise. My hand on his shoulder, Max reached up, placing his over mine. I wasn't sure whether he was trying to stop me from moving it anywhere else or if he was trying to hold my hand. It was sort of odd either way, but I felt like his acknowledgment of my touch was nice enough.

"What time is it?" Max asked.

"How should I know?" I countered. "Get your little whachamacallit and check."

Max slid his backpack over without having to sit up, finding his PokéNav and checking the time. "It's three p.m.," he told me. "It's already so late."

"Not late enough in my book!" I exclaimed. "You know, since you have this whole when-and-where thing going for us." I huffed and got to my feet in a clumsy way.

Max sat up and called Stantler over. Totodile followed, and we promptly returned our Pokémon. As I reclaimed my hat and dusted myself off, Max continued to just _sit there, _looking so helpless but so fucking adorable! I wanted to take him right there on the ground, I truly did. He was sitting cross-legged, his shorts being baggy enough for me to see up his thigh if I turned my head the right way.

"Do you need help?" I asked through a smile.

"No," he answered, "but I was wondering if you wanted to come to my Gym Battle tomorrow."

Gym Battle? I bit the inside of my cheek, thinking about this in-depth. Oh, I truly did not want to sit through that garbage. Yes, it was selfish and inconsiderate, especially when you took into account all the times Max watched Contests for May, but goddamn, I just detested Gym Battles. They were boring as hell. I gave the boy a shrug, making the answer a bit foggy.

"I'm not a very patient person," I revealed. "Can you promise me you'll beat the fucking Gym Leader's Pokémon in, like, two minutes?"

Max finally stood up and gathered up his backpack. "No," he said, "but I can try. Maybe with _support _I can do it."

"Support, eh?" I echoed smoothly. "Maybe I can just wish you a special kind of luck?" I questioned, smiling at him lecherously as I tried to push the boy into my chest when he approached me.

Max put a hand up to prevent his face from touching my chest; however, he didn't pull away from the short and small embrace. "I highly doubt _your kind of _luck is going to get me through anything."

"You think? Well, we'll see about that!" I turned the boy face-front towards the hotel across the street. "Now, my lad, go straight."

Max stumbled a bit, but managed to walk hurriedly over to the hotel. Across the street, in front of the hotel, it was almost scarce of any activity. We entered the building, being greeted by a friendly doorman and then being _blinded _by the extremely bright yellow lights beaming down from the ceiling and walls.

Unlike the previous hotels we'd been at in the last few days, this lobby wasn't nearly as picturesque and exquisite, but it was probably the best in the city. I wouldn't know for sure since my pamphlet did not include Mahogany Town. Still, this hotel looked very acceptable. In the lobby, there was an entrance to a restaurant and bar, a beauty product kiosk for a nearby spa, and to very left of the room, a lovely set of velveteen sofas and chairs gathered around a coffee table.

When I got to the front desk, which was a long ledge of a counter like you'd see in some corporate business, I explained to the receptionist the type of room preferred. I gave all the details, making sure to include my desire for a mini-bar, if possible. The lady, whose hair was pinned-up and had these small, dumb looking glasses on, gave me a sad look, typing things into the computer before telling me:

"I'm sorry, sir, but we do not have any rooms left. Well, except for on the bottom floor. Is that all right?"

I automatically sucked in my bottom lip, biting it gently in a seething disappointment. Max, who wasn't really paying attention as he stared up at the bright ceiling, sensed my gaze, and gave me a furrow of his brow.

"What?" he asked, seeing the look on my face.

"We have to take a room on the bottom floor," I explained. "Do you _know _how disgusting those rooms are?"

The lady perked up and raised a hand in assurance. "No, no!" she said. "All our rooms are given equal attention and care. The only difference is that the bottom rooms are not suites."

Max honestly did not care, it seemed. He just shrugged his shoulders and continued scanning the lobby. I considered slapping him, just because. But, that uncaring expression disappeared pretty quickly, and as he looked around the hotel, he regained that jaunty, sweet manner.

The woman perched up to get a better look at Max, who was half hidden from the tall counter. She cocked her head and asked me, "Is that your brother?"

This made Max jerk, looking up at me and then at the lady. Instead of turning red like I suspected he would, the color _drained _from his face, appearing so horrified at what I might respond with. The woman wasn't even fazed by his deep concern. When I gave a smile, the boy looked even _more _worried, but I nodded happily, and said:

"Why, yes, he is."

The woman smiled, telling me, "The rooms available only have one bed, so I hope that's okay."

I laughed obnoxiously. I sensed that if this woman was dense enough not to see the mortification on Max's face after her inquiry, she would never catch on to why I was laughing so hard now. Max turned away from the both of us, not wanting his face revealed, though I sensed the color was restored, and he was red _now._

"Sir, are you all right?"

I settled my laughter and nodded again. "Yes, yes. And, the bed situation is fine, too." And, oh was it ever! If this lady even _knew _how fine it was for us. I smirked knowingly.

Not even looking at me anymore, the woman retreated to typing things in on the computer. Eventually, I paid, signed the receipt, and she handed over the cardkey. She pointed to her left, explaining the room's location. I smiled, then urged Max forward with a soft hit of my bag. We walked down the small hall, going by the set of two elevators.

"Brothers," Max suddenly mused.

"Brothers," I echoed, but with more amusement.

"I don't even _have _a brother," the boy groaned.

"Yes, of course, only that _sister _of yours," I noted, rolling my eyes. "But, I think it's funny, to be honest." I stopped when I got to the room. I let out a long sigh, preparing myself for the horrors of a first-floor room as I slid in the cardkey.

Max noticed my balk and said, "You're making a bigger deal out of this than it is."

"I very much doubt that, Maximus," I replied, opening the door and entering.

And, it was small as hell in the room. I'd seen bathrooms bigger. Well, not really, but this was far from what I considered a _hotel room. _The only pieces of furniture in it were a desk and chair, the bed, a nightstand and… and a fucking mini-fridge! Oh, this delighted me instantly. I was quick to just throw down my bag and drop to my knees, opening the small thing on the floor and exploring the contents.

"See, I told you so," Max mumbled as he switched on all the lamps. I could sense he was very angry the fridge was in here.

"My, my," I voiced, looking at the label on a whiskey bottle. "Not even Ecruteak's hotel had one of these marvels."

Max looked over my shoulder, trying to see what else was in the fridge. "Please tell me you're not going to drink everything in there."

I leaned my head back to get a good look at Max's face. He looked sincerely concerned, so I smiled brightly and assured, "Maybe once you go to sleep."

The boy grimaced, a mix of disbelief and disgust. "I guess that's better than the alternative," he sighed, walking away and neatly putting his backpack down on the desk. He also removed his shoes, lining them up with the chair legs.

There was also vodka in the fridge, as well as some other hard liquor, such as tequila, which was shit if you asked me. All the little bottles were small and pointless, and there was nothing the hotel provided so I could mix anything good. I closed the fridge but continued to sit on the floor tiredly.

"Max, come here," I said softly as I removed my hat.

Max was over near the one window in room—though, thankfully it took up the entire end wall, so it allowed plenty of light into the depressing little enclosure—and was messing with the curtains absentmindedly. He eventually turned around, looking very emotionless. He must have _really _been worried I was going to get hammered right here and now.

I picked up a menu that rested on top of the fridge and waved it in the air. "Do you want me to get us something?" I took a look at what was listed, most of the options being these outrageously priced desserts.

Max took a long ass time walking over to me. Since I was sitting down he just leaned over a bit, glancing at the menu before putting his eyes on me and asking, "Are _you _hungry?"

"I must admit I am," I answered. "But, I don't want to leave this room, so these are our options, kiddo."

"Why?" he wondered. "It's still so early out."

"The freaks are out earlier and earlier these days," I argued pointlessly. "So, we don't want to risk it."

Unconvinced, but not wanting to fight, Max shrugged and said, "I don't really care what you get."

"Ah, fabulous then." I threw the menu down, and just as my Maximus was about to walk away, I used my forearm to bump him towards me, placing my cheek against his stomach. I eventually wrapped my arm around his hip, pushing him forward until he was pressed against me fully. "Can you be a dear and get me the phone, hmm?" And, despite my request, I still held him tightly to me, breathing in his sweet little scent.

"You're making this difficult," he muttered as he pried away. He grabbed the gaudy, common hotel phone and brought it to me. The phone line was thankfully long enough to reach me, which I really shouldn't have been surprised about since this room was so fucking small and stupid.

I dialed for room service, requesting a salad meal that included buttered bread. The man told me they'd charge it to my bill and that it would be up in thirty or so minutes. I hung up, leaving the phone on the floor as I rose to stand.

Max gave me an odd look as he watched me grab my bag and dump its contents onto the bed. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"I just remembered I need to clean this fucker out."

"So suddenly?"

I nodded. "If I don't do it now I never will, you see," I explained, sitting on the bed, cross-legged and spreading out the messy pile of my belongings. I moved my four Pokéballs over to a safe side, then resumed picking through.

Max took a good look at all the loose change and cash, and I imagined he was thinking back to the first day we met up, and he mentioned something about a wallet in that deli. Oh, how that seemed so long ago. I hadn't even realized I wanted to screw the boy at that time! I smiled fondly, thinking that if I had even touched the boy's ass back then he would've stabbed me.

The boy picked up a crushed cigarette box from eons ago, then poked at an empty pack of gum, which actually had several chewed pieces rolled into the lining. The empty metal tin of mints further revolted him, and the random, half-burnt and torn cigarettes that now littered the bed sheets caused a grimace on his face.

"You're disgusting," he finally said, looking at me seriously.

I took this as a joke and laughed, placing back in the bag my sunnies, my Pokéballs, my umbrella, my address book and my several changes of clothing. Everything else continued to sit on the bed, and I was unsure where to start. So, I grabbed my pack of cigarettes and lit one up, which happened to be the final one. As I gave my first puff of smoke, I gathered all the money and threw it into the front flap of my bag, figuring that was organization enough.

"Mm, Max, you should be the fine gentlemen that you are and go out and get me some cigarettes," I suggested, half-mumbling as I kept the current stick in my mouth.

"No!" Max shouted, completely appalled. "I'm not even _old enough _to, first of all. And, secondly, that's just _stupid_ and rude of you to ask."

I waved a hand in hasty understanding. "All right, all right, for Christ's sake, calm it." I smiled afterward, looking back at the mess on the bed. "So, what in your fine opinion looks useless?" I asked.

Max brought over the small garbage can and threw away the half-burnt cigarettes and the other smashed things. "Everything," he muttered. He picked up something buried beneath some crinkled papers, and I realized it was my pocket knife.

"Ahh, that's dangerous," I warned, grabbing it from him. "Don't want you marking up your pretty skin, do we?" I laughed, and stuffed it back in my bag.

The boy continued picking at the heap of mess. Curious about the crinkled papers, he picked up one and unfolded it. "A phone number," he revealed, showing it to me with an angry face.

I took the paper and read the number. Not even knowing who the fuck's number it was, I chucked it in the garbage can. I unwrinkled another smashed paper, which funnily had another number on it. I laughed, throwing it away. Max understood my laughter, and his angry face deepened.

"_What_?" I asked, my eyes widening. But, I continued to give an amused look.

"If this is another number…" Max grumbled, unfolding a third piece of paper, which was really a flyer to some store's sale.

The boy's seething little tone made me realize he really was fucking _jealous_! Oh, Lord, this boy really was something. I tried flattening out my self-satisfied grin as I said, "Max, don't give me that." And, I really only said it so I could provoke a further envious remark from him.

"Harley, how can you be so flip about this?" he inquired, his brow creased worriedly.

I sucked in some tobacco fumes, and playing innocent, I asked, "What do you mean?"

Keeping his eyes down, he quickly grabbed the rest of the scattered and crinkled paper and threw them away. He let out a sigh. "I thought you liked _younger _guys," he said.

I blinked, thrown aback by this. "I do," I responded. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well… to have a phone number you have to have a phone and to have a phone you have to pay for it and there aren't many kids who really have PokeGears." He paused and took a breath before he concluded, "So, these phone numbers must belong to adults."

"_Ohh,_" I voiced, my eyebrows high. "Oh, Max, don't you worry your pretty little head off," I assured. "Warm and willing is all I need sometimes." I laughed in a hidden sense of pride for my conquests.

Max _glared _at me, giving me the most pissed off face I had ever seen. When I reached out to touch him he slapped my hand away rather violently, and this caused me to glare back at him, wondering who the hell he thought he was for doing that to me. His scowl did lessen in what I guessed was fear, but he remained rather cold.

"You know, you never really told me you do this sort of thing all the time," he sneered.

I yanked the cigarette out of my mouth and tightly trapped it between my fingers. "I don't, _Max,_" I argued harshly. "I don't randomly travel around with kids like you and then just drop them off somewhere when I get bored."

"But, I'm not the _first_ person you've escorted around for a while, now am I?" Max's tone rose considerably, and I could sense he was honest to goodness angry with me.

"Well, no," I admitted honestly, "but what the fuck does that matter? You're still here, and I still goddamn want you around. I don't see the problem!"

"It's just the fact you can carry around so many numbers from people you don't even remember!"

"It's not _that _random and anonymous," I defended. "If it was, I wouldn't have their numbers, now would I, hmm?"

"Stop it!" Max yelled. "Can't you understand how that makes _me _feel!"

"I _don't see_ the problem!" I repeated.

"You're—you're _sleazy_!"

Startled, I threw down my bag onto the floor and hollered, "I am _not_ fucking sleazy, you goddamn ungrateful brat!"

A very uneasy silence crept upon us, and the look on Max's face pained me immensely. I actually regretted saying it immediately, which was goddamn rare. I watched as his eyes glossed until he blinked away the tears and stared helplessly at the floor, unable to move. I opened my mouth several times to voice an apology, but I could never quite get it out.

"Max…" I eventually stammered.

He said nothing.

What a fucking bastard I was, making this kid want to cry. I bit my lip, my chest hurting from a sincere pang of guilt. "Max," I repeated, reaching out to touch him. He backed away. Disappointed, I got off the bed, standing in front of him and kneeling down to match his height. "Maximus, darling, I didn't mean that."

Again, he stayed silent, but his pupils shook as he fought eye-contact.

Cigarette still in my hand, I just let it go to waste, the smoke floating around in the air. I put both my hands on his shoulders, shaking him very gently to urge him to look at me. "Hey," I said, "I'm _sorry._"

Ugh, and the sincerity of the word was very foreign sounding coming from me. I doubted I would've said it had Max not possessed this power over me, the kind that I seriously hated to feel, but ultimately couldn't deny. Max's body _did _stiffen at the word, and I hoped that meant he was considering the genuineness in my apology.

"You…" he finally began, and I sensed even _he _didn't know where he was going with his words.

I leaned in, pushing myself against him in a loose embrace. I felt so pathetic doing this, too, but I really felt the need to make up for that horrid remark. But, wait… didn't _he _owe me an apology, too? I considered this, wondering if my random rendezvouses were even any of Max's business. I guess they were to him, and in a way I couldn't blame the boy, but still, that was the fucking past, and I had seriously never even stayed in touch with one of those men.

I broke the hug, looking at him with concern. "I don't know what else you want me to say," I told him.

"Harley," he began again, frowning, "I'm honestly not ungrateful for what you're doing… letting me stay with you and stuff."

I realized that Max was probably more hurt with _what_ I had said to him than how I had said it. The fact I called him ungrateful, hinting that he had no gratitude for me basically taking care of him, had broken his little heart. I sighed, taking a drag of my nearly gone cigarette that almost burnt out already thanks to our spiff.

"I know you're not," I said. "And, I hope _you know _that right now, you're the only person I really give a damn about."

Max was unconvinced, but he managed to get himself to look me in the eyes.

I crushed the end of my cigarette on the side of the garbage and threw it in there. "Honestly, Max," I said, "I enjoy my share of _fun_, but I'm not completely uncaring about who I decide to, well, have fun _with_." I tucked a hand under his chin, making him continue looking at me.

Max sighed. "I feel stupid for getting upset like this…"

I chuckled, leaning in and letting my lips hover his. "Don't," I urged, "because all it means is that you are just as infatuated with _moi_ as I am with _toi_."

I kissed him, turning my head to deepen it after a while. And, thankfully, the boy responded. Responded amazingly, too! He pushed himself against me, seeming so desperate for me to _hold him _that I was shocked. I answered his plea by driving his chest into mine, making him get as close as possible. He broke the kiss, gasping for air, but quickly, before I even had time to recover, he locked our lips back together for a moment.

"Harley," he breathed, "_I'm _sorry."

I laughed. "It doesn't matter," I assured. "You are too fucking adorable for your own good, Maximus."

Max's eyes narrowed. "I don't like fighting with people."

"And, I don't like fighting with people I _care about_," I said. I kissed him once more, but this time on the chin. I then voiced, "For the record, I really am not a whore."

For whatever reason, this made Max laugh. I slightly glared at him, but it was all in good means. He was really charming when he laughed, and I felt a distinct sweep of lust wash through me as he gave me a soft smile. Makeup sex was always fantastic, and I wondered how Max felt about fucking right this very second. The little innocent and only faintly distressed look made me give a sigh of desire.

I slid my hands down his body, to his hips, tightly holding him still so I could have eye-contact. Max wasn't hesitant to look me back in the eyes either, and I was grateful for that. The boy ended up moving his hands to my upper-arms, gliding them up to my shoulders. I sensed what he really wanted was another goddamn hug, which was both precious and amusing at the same time. I happily obliged nonetheless, embracing him gently. He rested his chin on my shoulder, breathing heavily to gargle down one of those aftermath wheezes from holding in a cry.

I tilted my head, grazing my tongue along the side of his face, letting it warmly wet his skin. He inhaled nervously when I purposely made our hips connect, brushing strongly against one another. Suddenly, I felt Max move his hands, and I thought for a moment he was pushing me away. But, then, I felt his fingertips on my chest, finding their way beneath my shirt from the collar. I made a melodramatic groan, strictly to let him know how much I enjoyed _his _touches.

And, like the fucking tart I knew he was, he shut his eyes, licking his lips and leaving his mouth centimeters open to tease the hell out of me. I quickly smashed our lips together, forcing his hands to jerk up my chest and around the lining of my jacket. I shrugged my shoulders out, making it obvious I wanted him to remove the green attire. He kept our mouths fused as he slid my jacket down my arms until it dropped on the floor.

I found myself growing maddeningly aroused, heat building up in every section of my body. I managed to loosen the embrace enough to start undoing the zipper on his shorts, pulling them down to his ankles. We broke apart, and I helped him step out of the apparel. I then kneeled further, pressing my lips against his hipbone. His skin was so warm, so surrounded with this amazing wave of heat that drove me wild. I grinned wickedly at his underwear, unable to help myself from tracing imaginary lines on the top trim of the dark fabric. They may not have been as tight as other ones, but anything that even slightly traced the outlines of his jutting hipbones and his semi-hard cock was masterful.

"You, Max," I lowly spoke, "are too much sometimes." And, I meant that with every ounce of who I was, oh, did I ever.

I could sense Max close his eyes, his head lolling back when my mouth hovered over his covered and restrained cock. I urged him down to his knees, which ultimately made me lose my mouth's position, but made it easier for me to push him carefully onto his back. I crawled over his body, trapping him onto the floor. As I leaned my lower-self down onto his own groin, I felt myself twitch to a painfully full and hard arousal. To tease the both of us, I grated our bodies, making it agonizing to not have our lips molted together in a combination of tongues, teeth and saliva.

Max's small arms were shaky as he tried to untuck my black tank-top. When he got the shirt out from underneath the tight grip of my belt, he pushed the fabric up with an open palm. I helped him out, removing it myself when it reached my neck. I very desperately wanted the boy to lie there, on the floor, naked before me so I could take in the sight and burn it into my mind. I took off his shirt, throwing it to the side and bending my back to kiss him gingerly before my hands dug between his skin and the fabric of those undies and—

—and a knock at the door, a holler of something about room service, broke our kiss and I felt everything about Max go frigid and inert. At first boggled, I gave Max a rather clueless look, blinking several times before he caught his breath and said to me:

"It's the food you ordered."

I grunted, falling backwards to sit. I blew some bangs out of my sight and cursed softly. I couldn't get myself to move, but I watched Max, who, covered so alluringly in those undies of his, gave a worried expression. I managed to stand after a while, feeling so completely _unaroused_ by the situation that I wanted to shoot myself for ordering room service in the first place. I straightened out my pants, throwing on my tank-top lazily before I walked over to the door and opened it only slightly.

"Good evening, sir," the attendant said. And, he had a fucking little cart with him as if the meal I had ordered was the fanciest thing in the history of the world.

I looked back at Max, who was now standing and considering putting his shirt back on. I did not like this, so I kept the door minimally closed, squeezing my body through it so I blocked the man from entering.

"I'll take those, if that's quite all right with you," I said, picking up the tray of food.

The man gave me a helpless sort of look, asking, "Are you sure you don't need any assistance? It's my job to bring them inside the room to you."

I smiled pleasantly, but shook my head. "Oh, no, it's fine, it's fine." I squeezed myself back into the room, setting the plates down on the bed and grabbing some money from my bag for a tip. I returned to the door, handing the man the money and thanking him exhaustingly.

The man smiled and took the money happily. "Have a nice night, sir," he told me, walking off as he pushed the car away.

I shut the door, letting out an annoyed groan. Max had redressed by now, which pissed me off because I knew there was no way I was going to be able to get him undressed again without a lot of work. I hit my head back against the door and muttered another curse.

"Are you okay?" Max finally asked, then looking at the tray of food, examining the brightly covered salad, chockfull of green, red, purple and yellow vegetables.

"I must admit it's pretty disappointing to have this little faunlet beneath you, ready and willing, only to be disturbed by some bellhop fucker." I slothfully dragged my feet over to the bed, pursing my lips in an angry huff.

A small bit of redness crept into Max's face, but he distracted himself from my comment by picking up the tray of food and placing it on the floor. He sat down, too, dividing out the silverware and plates. Oh, this was just pathetic, the two of us sitting on the floor and eating thanks to this goddamn hotel and their lack of suites. But, I sat back down as well, leaning against the edge of the bed.

"This looks really good, though," Max commented, and I was glad he wasn't one of those retarded kids who refused to eat healthy food. In fact, he dug right into the salad with his fork, trapping a nice mix of tomatoes, lettuce and cheese and chewed it happily.

I smirked at the boy, reaching out and rubbing the back of his neck. "It's a pity, really. I mean, I wanted you to witness how amazing makeup sex can be."

Max made a face as he swallowed. "I think it's time to let it go now," he muttered.

"I don't," I further complained. "I just _love _the feeling of you beneath me, Max. Oh, Lord, is it something of a blessing."

"Harley," he warned in a deadpanned tone. "Let's just eat, okay?"

"Ah, well, I guess I have no other option but to comply." I picked up my fork and dug into the salad, too. But, I couldn't help letting out another sigh of disappointment.

"So, have you decided to come to my battle tomorrow?" the boy asked. It was such a fucking amazement that this boy could be lying on his back, urgently pressing our mouths together one minute, then sitting here and asking about a Pokémon battle the next.

But, I really _hadn't _decided anything. "Well," I started, ripping off a piece of the bread provided in the meal, "I do have some errands to run."

"Like what?" the boy asked suspiciously.

Ah, and I so fucking badly wanted to tell him! Even if this kid had clearly stated he didn't want anything for his little birthday, I wasn't going to agree to that. He was getting something. And, he would like it, too. I hadn't really thought about _what _I was going to get him, but that didn't matter right now.

"Cigarettes," I said to him, "and I think I need some dental floss, too."

Max's flat expression deepened. "We can do that before I go to the Gym."

I raised an eyebrow, realizing that he really did want me to be there with him. Not only _that_ but I realized Max probably never had a single person ever watch one of his Gym Battles. Maybe his mother watched when he battled Norman, but that wasn't anything special. I felt awful for the kid, but fuck, I hated Gym matches!

"Well, do I get anything if I come?" I teased so I could distract myself for a moment.

"You get to see me _battle,_" he retorted. "Watching matches is fun, Harley."

I shrugged, but felt he had trapped me in a corner. "Fine, kiddo, I'll come." I sighed, rolling my eyes for a moment. "This won't be a regular thing, because I'm not too fond of little Gym Battle thingies."

"_What_? Why?" the boy questioned, nearly choking on his bite of the salad.

"Not glamorous enough," I explained, "and what's the point if you can't show off how _beautiful _your Pokémon can be?"

"Well, I think that comes out in battles a lot. Just like strength and ability comes out in Contests," the boy shot back.

I nodded, but still didn't agree with him completely. Oh, how Max needed to learn about the physical beauty of Pokémon.

When I finished most of my salad, I crawled over to the mini-fridge, taking out one of the smaller glasses of imported vodka. I heard Max mutter something behind me, but I ignored it. There were a couple of bottles of water, which had this ridiculous sticker reading "_Free_!"on them. And, they better have damn well been free because it was _water_: the stuff you could drink out of the toilet if you goddamn felt like it.

I brought over a bottle of water for my Maximus, handing it to him but unable to shake away that bothered expression he had on his face. I sighed and told him, "I'm not going to get _drunk._"

Max shrugged in a sudden uncaring type of dismissal.

I snapped off the plastic lock on the top of the glass bottle, throwing it somewhere in the room. I also threw my jacket further away since it as still lying on the floor miserably.

"So, what's the gratification in drinking?" the boy asked. He then sipped his water like some innocent little schoolboy.

I took a swig of the alcohol as he said this, the liquid burning my throat in a heavenly way. I smiled, tasting some excess dampness on my lips.

"There is none," I decided to say. "I mean, people don't drink to get drunk. At least not always. People drink because it tastes good and it sort of cures your thirst." I paused, motioning the small bottle in the air. "Now, take some crackpot junkie OD'ing on their medication. They are doing that to get high, no? But, you don't drink to get that particular high, and—"

"I get the point, Harley," Max interrupted.

"Good."

Eventually, Max finished his meal, too. He sipped his water afterwards and wiped his mouth in the most adorable way possible. While he placed down the bottle, I reached out and patted his shoulder affectionately. For a moment, I thought Max pushed into the touch, but he stopped, and I wasn't quite sure what that brief fidget of movement meant. Before I made any further moves, I took another gulp of my own drink. The alcohol tasted particularly powerful now that the aftertaste of the salad was passing.

Hand still on Max's shoulder, I used my fingernails to graze the edge of his collarbone, and it sent a shiver down his body. It excited me when he shut his eyes, but I hoped the boy wasn't going to get all prude on me again, acting like he didn't still want me. Clearly that shiver he produced was made of neediness and thrill. Had that bastard of a room service man not arrived when he did, Max and I would have been joyfully exhausted and sweaty, drained but panting in the wonders of afterglow. The thought of this, the _image_ of being strained and worn-out next to him, stirred up my lust again, and I was quick to tug on Max's arm, pulling him to his feet.

"W-What are you doing?" Max demanded, surprised.

I placed my hands on his shoulders, still standing at full height, and sighed thoughtfully. I grinned, sideways, and said, "Care to pick up where we left off, hmm?"

A flush of red washed through the boy, and he hummed a pondering sound of uncertainty. I figured he was more embarrassed by the vocal noting of it rather than the act itself. I couldn't help but stroke his cheek, looking at him fondly before I lifted him by the underarms, creating immediate panic.

"Harley!" he gasped, making it difficult to keep a good grip on him as he writhed.

He was heavier than I predicted. I was forced to shift my own weight, forcing the boy's legs to wrap around my hips. He caught onto my plan and cooperated, but remained fidgety and red. I pushed up his arms, allowing mine to encircle his chest. He was more comfortable now, seeming to feel safer, though ironically, I could've dropped the boy if I felt like it. Of course, I would never do that to my Maximus, especially since I was so amazed by how incredibly warm and eager he felt against me. Oh, and it really was something of an astonishment. I decided very quickly that this was my new favorite way to hold him, and perhaps the _only _way I ever wanted to from now on. It certainly was more comfortable than kneeling down all the time even if I was straining my arms now.

I continued to grin, and Max continued to glow red. I pushed the boy up in my arms, purposely making him rub against my chest before I brought out lips together. Max automatically made some sort of delightful noise, half-gasp, half-moan, and it sent more fervor into our liplock. I was quick to allow my tongue's entrance into that dark, hot mouth of his. He was hesitant, and his response, if anything, was slow and unenthusiastic. I took greater action, making our mouths collide closer and harder, tongues slithering against the other, teeth momentarily hitting due to the frenzy.

Max's breathing was hitched, and I was caught off guard by the developing hardness pressing against my stomach. I moved away from the kiss, giving a crooked little grin of acknowledgment. His growing arousal increased my own carnality. I tucked some hair behind the boy's ear, removing his glasses and holding them in one hand while I used the other to continue holding his body up. I gave the boy a pat on the back, trying to get him to move closer to me again. I readjusted my arms, feeling them slightly give out.

"Mmm, Maximus," I murmured, moving around a bit and bending down so Max could get on the bed.

Max gave me a peculiar look, but sat back on the bed, allowing me to crawl over him, pinning him down the same way I had before. As I placed his glasses onto the nightstand, I brushed my knee against his hardness, emitting a small gasp from him. I bent my back down so I could press my lips onto his shoulder, grazing the other with a wide, open palm. Max reached up, slowly, touching my arm before rising his hips in an exceptional way. I sucked in my breath, feeling restrained even more by my pants. I decided it was time for our clothing to go, and so, I wasted no time stripping the boy of his clothing. It was easier this time around, and now, having him sprawled naked in front of me, I couldn't help reaching for him, encircling my hand around his erection, hard and alive _just for me._

I removed my shirt quickly, making sure to have my hips hover over his the entire time. My sweet little Max squirmed beneath me, either very desperate for contact or uncomfortable. As I looked at him, so fucking lithe and little, I was so sure that he could be carried away by a small wind like a goddamn twig. I breathed the boy's name, still lingering above his body, before I unbuckled my belt, sliding off my pants.

Greedily, I pressed our bodies together, purposely teasing the kid by colliding our hips, very much in need to feel his naked form against mine. Max let out the softest, smallest groan. I smirked widely, pushing my face into his neck. I moved against him and while skin hit skin, our thighs were quick to grind together. It was brief, but the _look _he gave, so hazed and needy, caused me to do it again, devilishly. I then straightened my back, sitting above him so I could take hold of his fully erect cock. I encircled it, and oh, it felt so dangerously hard and warm! I just wished he would stop suppressing his sounds and moan for me.

"Max," I urged in a purr, trying to get a better response. I pumped his length in my hand, my fingers working as I controlled my wrists in a slanting motion.

Max's reply was a loll of the head and a watered down pant. I scooted further down the bed, my upper-body aligned with his lower-half. Still holding him in my closed hand, I lowered my head, licking my lips as I prepared myself to take him in my mouth. Max, knowing I was going to do this, shifted his hips once more. I sucked my lips around my teeth, teasing the tip of him with both my hands and mouth. Max moved again, and I noticed a distinct difference between now and when I first did this in Goldenrod City. His muscles weren't painfully constricted in fear; they were more relaxed, though I sensed a _slight_ rigidity in his body due to nervousness.

As I pushed his heated length further and further into my mouth—where it so obviously belonged!—I let my lips tightly constrict the width of it. I moved back up, leaving a wet trail of saliva, and causing Max to give the first high volume groan of neediness. I smiled through my movements, using my hand to hold his cock in position as I thrust the thing in and out of my mouth. My neck tightened, uncomfortable with the location I was at. I decided to distract myself from the pain, reaching down my body to take hold of my own erection. I stroked myself slowly, matching the rhythm I gave to Max. Losing some of my concentration on the boy, I stopped, but kept his length in my hand when I moved back up to our original position.

Teased and now very anxious, I knew Max wanted nothing more than to feel the savage and wild pleasure that would bring him to a powerful climax. I closed my eyes, smiling as I thought about the soon to come feeling of being in that boy's tight, hot ass. I moved my hand beneath him, lifting him slightly so a single finger could feel around his entrance. Max shut his eyes nervously, but I did not press in. Instead, I waited for a reaction, trying to sense a possible sting of pain.

The boy turned his head, biting his lower lip as he wormed gently beneath me. His versatility amazed me, and goddamn, it turned me on like nothing else ever could. The way he reacted to me, so full of confusing lust, made my own hunger heighten. I placed a hand on his hip, urging him to lie on his stomach. Unsure, Max dawdled, but I gave him an assuring and teasing pat on the inner thigh. When he had his back to me, flat on his stomach, I scaled over him, tracing my chest against his back. Somehow knowingly—(I knew he was a fucking faunlet, I just knew it!)—he lifted his hips up off the bed, leaving enough room so I could move my hand beneath him, taking hold of his cock for a moment.

"_Max_," I whispered directly into his ear, still trying to get more enthusiastic sounds from him. I pressed my erection around the back of his thighs, against his delightful little ass.

The boy's neck moved up, hitting my shoulder comfortingly as I remained behind him. I used one arm to support my weight as I wet my hand, bringing it down to my cock and moistening it abundantly.

"Tell me…" I continued. "Are you okay?" I pressed my mouth to his neck, sucking at his shoulder and chin.

Max stifled some sort of noise, and eventually gave a timid nod. "I—I think…" he breathed, and unintentionally, I felt a rise in his hips, creating greater contact with my erection lain out behind him.

"If you're not, just say it." But, oh, fucking hell, if he said no I knew I was going to just go crazy with greed and dishonor.

Max shut his eyes. "I'm fine, Harley."

Ahh, the way he said my name! I smirked, moving my hand back to his hardness, pumping it at a leisurely pace while I prepared myself—my body, my mind, even my fucking soul—to push into the boy. I tilted my hips up, moving my weight to my knees as I held my length, positioning myself. I felt Max's muscles stiffen at the first bit of contact. I stroked him with my other hand, comforting him the same way I had before. This helped, and so I continued, pushing into his body as slowly as I could possibly control myself to go.

I gritted my teeth, groaning out loudly at the amazing feeling of this boy's body. "Maximus, you—" I never quite finished, just allowing myself further and deeper.

The boy's hand gripped to the sheets, gasping uncomfortably before I paused my movements and leaned against his back. I used my tongue to graze along the back of his neck, murmuring some rather inattentive blabber. I then used both my hands to grab hold of his hips, readying myself thoughtfully to begin sending the two of us into a wild mix of delight.

"Feels good this way, hmm, Max?" I acknowledged, pulling out to begin thrusting. I wondered if he even enjoyed this position. Oh, I adored being able to see the constriction in his back and ass, but I missed his sweet face. I could only get a reasonable view of it from the side, and even that was not enough.

Max stuttered several times. His brow creased, and I felt the temperature rise in his body, sweat forming at his shoulder blades and thighs. He managed to say lowly, "Harley… I… want you to _move._"

Move. Fucking move. Oh, I thought for sure I was going to faint just from sheer shock. This little wanton thing wanted more, wanted me to get going like an impatient harlot! I couldn't help but grin, straightening my back as I bent my hips, pulling out, then in, and causing the most amazing twist of muscles in Max's back.

"Fuck," I grunted, wanting to savor this tight, tense grip around my cock. He was so goddamn tight, so untouched and sinless. I was so happy to be the one corrupting him, so proud and accomplished. "Oh, _geez, _Max, you are a such a little blessing, I swear."

"Harley…" he muttered, impatient and aggravated.

I just knew I could dig this side of him up, I knew it! My pride caused a rather rough thrust, a curve and winding of my hips. Max gasped, but remained strong, keeping his hips risen off the bed. I wrapped an arm around him, taking hold of his cock as I began a full rhythm. I pushed in deep, then pulled myself almost all the way out, driving back in as I rolled my hips. Maximus, _my_ little Maximus, moaned with his mouth shut, creating a soft hum of pleasure. I repeated this amazing pattern, my cock so enveloped by his hot, taut entrance.

Eagerly, I felt a small movement in Max's hips, pushing back onto my length as I pushed into him. Managing to do this perfectly, the boy let out a frustrated grunt, the first real sound that was in perfect sync to our bodies. I continued thrusting, penetrating deep and hard when Max felt at ease. I knew I was making some rather amplified groans, feeling so complete as I fucked this boy, in and out, completely, fleetingly, wondrously. I pursed my lips, letting his name come out of my mouth several times before I threw my head back, shouting it and climaxing into his body. The hot, sudden feeling of my seed in his body sent Max over-the-edge, making his muscles constrict, his ass becoming tighter than before. I twisted my hips upwards, feeling his strong release in the palm of my hand, wet and so incredibly warm.

My legs giving out, I collapsed further onto my knees, still inside him possessively. Once more, I let my chest fuse against his back, stamping long, wet kisses on his neck and chin with my lips. Max panted heavily, his eyes shut and in full concentration. I finally pulled out of him, falling backwards besides my darling Maximus. He watched carefully as I brought my dampened hand to my mouth, licking off his sticky release. He seemed slightly disgusted, but not very surprised. I smiled affectionately, moving in for a deep kiss, which he obliged to almost too eagerly.

"Oh, Maximus, you are too goddamn good to be true!"

Max turned to further rest on his side, eventually lying on his back comfortably. He sighed heavily, looking faintly humiliated. I reached out to stroke his face, motioning my thumb back and forth before he finally made a noise of acknowledgment.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

He nodded, but his eyes were still closed. My chest, dampened with moist beads of sweat, rose and fell with each breath I took, trying to recover. Lord, if there was ever a miracle performed on earth, this was it. My sweet Maximus, calling out my name, having to plead with me to "move" and once again proving just how wanton and faunlet-y he could get. It was like I was a psychic, predicting his actions excellently.

When I turned to look at him his eyes were _still _closed, and I realized that his behavior was very different from yesterday. Had I hurt him? I wasn't sure I had been any rougher, and I knew our position couldn't have strained the kid anymore than last night's. It was easier to unintentionally hurt him, though. I frowned, reaching out and bringing the kid towards me in a tight embrace. Max was stiff and inattentive.

"Max," I called out, "tell me what's wrong." I was careful not to state it as a question.

Max's next sigh was heavy. He opened his eyes, giving me such an unreadable look. I watched as he pursed his lips, keeping his neck craned so he wouldn't have to lean down onto my shoulder. I nudged him carefully for a moment, using one arm to stroke his stomach and chest. I then moved my face up, pressing my lips right onto his cheek. And, yet, he still remained silent.

Now I was irritated. I felt the small desire to _shake him _violently until he spit out what was wrong.

Perhaps Max sensed my annoyance because he breathed out and began with: "I didn't really like it that way."

"That way?" I immediately echoed. I furrowed my brow, considering once again if I had hurt him. "Any particular reason, my dear?"

Max narrowed his eyes, but finally, he relaxed into my embrace, allowing my arm to encircle his body and bring him tightly against my side. He did something similar to our first time, lifting his head up and seemingly trying to sniff my hair and skin. At least he didn't want nothing to do with me.

"It was weird," he concluded. Then, after a flush in his cheeks, "I couldn't see your face."

This revelation made me smile. I pulled Max close, crawling halfway on top of him so I could see his face _now. _Max bit the inside of his cheek, looking up at me as I pinned him loosely to the mattress.

"Not seeing your face _was _a disappointment," I agreed, craning my neck down and kissing him. "But, it was still amazing, no?"

Retaining that distant stare even after the kiss, Max gave me a long sigh and voiced, "I guess."

"You guess!" I exclaimed. "Oh, Max, must I repeat it all again to prove to you how goddamn amazing you—or, rather, _we—_are together?" I gave a snaky smirk, running a hand down his body, to his thighs, which I slyly stroked.

Max jolted at the touch. "Harley—_no_, it's not that. I just… it was different!"

That was a better answer. I continued touching him nonetheless, spreading my palm across that pale, creamy flesh underneath the crook of his knee. I kissed him once more, pushing my tongue deep into his mouth, finding his and lapping them together fervently. I moaned into his mouth, bringing my hand up to his soft cock, touching it teasingly to watch him shiver. He kept his eyes open, but that quiver of his body proved a nervous side. I chuckled lowly, using my tongue on his chin, gliding it down his neck, and eventually, his chest. Max breathed in, finding a need to take hold of something. He clutched both arms around me, pulling himself up.

"Oh, yes, Max," I growled lowly. "You most certainly agree with me. We are amazing, and you know it."

"Harley…" he voiced as I gave an intentional twist of my wrist, holding his length loosely in my hand.

"Do tell me, though…" I started, tilting my head. "Why did you seem so eager if you didn't like it?"

Max shrugged, trying his very best to not get embarrassed. "I don't know," he told me.

"Still felt fucking wonderful, huh?"

"Harley," he muttered flatly. But, as he turned his head in annoyance, his body stirred, and I felt his twitch length, hardening slightly and coming to life all over again.

I chuckled once more, very impressed by how quickly he recovered. Hand still wrapped around his cock, my ministrations quickened. I felt myself grow hard now, and I made my darling aware of this by pushing my erection against his side. Max looked down at me, holding his breath. I rubbed against him, letting out lengths come into full contact. The boy gave another quiver, and I felt his arousal begin to get even harder.

"Doesn't take long to know how Max likes it," I teased, elevating his knees in the familiar, and apparently, his favorite, way. I continued to touch him with my hand even as I rose his legs, spreading them perfectly, all while Max let me, the goddamn amazing faunlet.

Max's hips rose, and he kept me tight in what was really becoming _his embrace. _"I don't know if we should do this again, Harley," he debated.

"No?" I laughed, shaking my head in amusement. "Why's that?"

"We just—"

I cut him off with a deep, forceful kiss. Mouth still open from wanting to speak, it was easy to slip my tongue right into Max's mouth. And, he tasted just fabulous, so sweet and divine. Finding it difficult to lean down with his legs so messily spread, I moved back up, grinding our cocks against each other, over and over until I felt the boy's hips buck and his entire body shiver.

"You want it," I growled between hard pants, tormenting him by not letting our bodies touch anymore. I wanted him to admit it. I wanted him to tell me he wanted me inside him, fucking him. And, although the ache in my cock was strong and demanding, I would suffer through it, knowing I probably could come just by him _admitting it _to me.

Max bit his lower lip, shutting his eyes and sucking in his breath. His hard length, aching just as mine, looked so in need of my touch, my ministrations and my mouth. He squirmed more than ever before, bending his knees up in frustration, so _desperate. _

"Tell me you want it, Max," I coaxed, rubbing under his knee again. I traced my hand further up, around his thigh, making him pant.

"H-Harley," he heaved. He opened his eyes, begging with those shaking pupils. He whined even further, saying, "Harley, just…"

"Just what?" I questioned. "Say it or this will go nowhere." I laughed, using a single finger to massage along his hardness. He gasped, shaking, and I scooted forward, allowing the hand roaming around his thigh to travel further down, to his hot, little ass.

Max, in a remarkable amount of force, pushed himself to me, making my entire hand come in contact with his cock and my finger press against his entrance. What a fucking delight!

"Want it, Max?" I teased, letting my finger press into him at an angle. Feeling the pressure, the constricting muscles of his already tight self, I couldn't help but go further, and meanwhile, allowing my cock to press against his thigh. And, I knew, instantly, my finger came in contact with just the right place when Max screamed:

"Harley! Okay! Please!"

I laughed, throwing my head back with satisfaction. "That's what I'm talking about, Maximus," I purred, lifting his legs again after I removed my finger. "Here's a great lesson: _begging works._"

"Harley," he nagged in the sultriest tone.

Still damp from sweat and my seed, I had no problem beginning to press into the boy. The tip of my cock stretched him thoroughly, allowing me to enter the agonizingly tense and firm hole. Warm, hot, flaming, torrid—it was _all _of those things and so much more. I wasted no time beginning to pump into his body, immediately watching his lip quiver and his hips jerk up.

"Ah, Max, y_eee_s," I grunted, my thrusts giving more vigor with the help of my knees.

Max's eyes glossed as the air hit, having them open far too long so he could concentrate on my thrusts. My arms tightened intensely around his legs, pushing them to my chest as I drove into his body forcefully. The boy bent his knees, hunching his back as he slowly let his legs begin to wrap around my hips, changing our position for the better. Oh, this kid, this boy—_my Maximus—_was unbelievable! Not even two days ago would he have been thrown off by the idea of having me deep into the hilt of his ass, but now—_now_—he was pleading for it, wrapping his legs around me like the common strumpet.

I sheathed in and out, rutting into his body over and over until Max shouted my name, spilling his seed onto my stomach and spasms ran through his body. I gave a couple of more thrusts, hard and quick, before I came, too, biting my lip and moaning intensely as I threw my head back.

"_Mmm, _Max," I breathed, aftershocks still running in my body before I fell forward.

Max loosened his legs around me, pulling away so I didn't have so much weight on him. I used my forearms to balance myself, staring down at him with a hazy lust. My bangs were stuck against my sweaty forehead and Max's were clamped down just the same. His chest felt damp when I spread my palm against it, breathing into his neck closely.

Max made several attempts to say something, all efforts simply coming out as soft whimpers and squeaks. Finally, just as I moved off, still managing to snake an arm around him, the boy gave a sort of relaxing sigh, and said:

"That was… _nicer_."

Indeed it was, I thought to myself. I grabbed a tissue from the nightstand, cleaning off his release from my stomach. I threw the thing somewhere, then returned to hold Max tightly and kissing his exposed, craned neck.

"Just remember that begging gets you places," I quipped, teasing him by letting my lips linger inches away from his.

"It feels different now," he told me, obviously unsure what he was even saying. "I mean, it still sort of hurts, but, well, I don't know… it's just different."

I flashed my teeth in a smile, running my hand through his hair. "As it should," I said. "You're just so eager get used to me." I kissed him several times, eventually letting my tongue deep into his mouth and rubbing the back of his head with my hand.

Max's eyes shut, leaning his head back and humming into my kiss. When I broke the liplock, Max gave me a smile of the sort, asking, "You're coming to my Gym Battle, right?"

I raised an eyebrow, surprised the question had come out. I grinned at him, nodding slowly. "Certainly, darling. After _this _I couldn't possibly deny you anything." I stroked his back, flicking my tongue along his chin. "Ah, yes, Maximus, you are so perfectly made for these sort of activities."

Max allowed another kiss. He didn't respond very well, but I could tell he wanted to. I paused, mouths still fused, waiting for him continue the kiss the best he could. And, he did, clenching his jaw for a moment before he pulled at my lower lip, sucking it into his mouth and massaging it against his own. Slick and warm, our tongues touched, slithering around before I broke the kiss in a laugh.

"Amazing," I noted, throwing my head back against the pillow.

And, Max really was; he was fucking downright exceptional! Yet, how was it this boy spent so many years traveling alone? How could anyone have missed his impeccable, glorious traits, and his absolute apparent faunletism? Was everyone fucking blind? And, why the hell did May decide she did not want to travel with her brother? That was the most mysterious and baffling mistake of mankind. She would never know the extent of her brother's glory, though perhaps it was better she didn't. It meant everything about him was saved for me, that he alone could be _mine_ as long as I never let him slip away.

**End of Part Five**


	6. Part Six

**Part Six**

_-Max-_

Blinded by the yellow sun and distracted by the clanging coming from the far side of the room, I was forced to open my eyes, finding myself staring up at the white ceiling. Although protected and covered by the sheets, which I had somehow gotten under, I suddenly felt very empty in the bed when I realized Harley was not with me. I sat up, still hearing the clamoring shackle of whatever was happening out of my view. I saw a shadow move about on the wall, and although I knew instantly it had to be Harley, I was still startled by the ruckus he was making.

Tempted to get up from the bed, I decided against it since I was unclothed. Plus, humiliation and embarrassment were flooding me, instantly thinking back to how I acted last night. If my behavior before was not ludicrous then _now_ it surely was without a doubt. That had been outrageous what I did, so completely unlike me. For one, having let it happen twice and then _begging._ And, though I knew deep down Harley had intended this, teasing me and playing some sort of game, I still couldn't shake the mortification. Especially since I now felt so sensitive and sore in that particular area.

It wasn't the same kind of pain that I felt after the first time, because _that _had felt stingy and burnt; now it was a stretched hurt, and I could literally feel it with every small move I made. It upset me, but at least it wasn't stinging.

So, still staying under the sheets, I crawled to the end of the bed, looking around the corner to see Harley balancing a tray in his arm and trying to shut the door with his leg. He was dressed but still jacketless, and his hair was damp from a shower or bath, I concluded. Struggling to hold the tray, the dishes were sliding around, hitting against one another. He muttered several curses, finally slamming the door and being able to grip the tray with two hands. Now no longer at risk of dropping it, he turned, but was very surprised to see me staring at him. Quickly, however, a smile formed, and he happily swaggered over to me, setting the tray on the bed.

"Hello there, Maximus," he said, moving in front of me.

I sat up a bit more, trying to give a smile. It was hard, though, what with images rushing through my mind of what we had done. How was it Harley could so easily awaken the next morning and not be fazed by what he had done?

"Uh… Good morning," I said nonetheless.

Harley leaned down, pressing his lips against mine. I let him, but not responding, he was quick to break the kiss and give me a questioning look. I narrowed my eyes, taking a glance at the food. It was a very simple breakfast, just two bagels with some sort of flavoring cream and two glasses of orange juice. I suddenly felt guilty for not responding to his kiss, and I knew he was once again under the assumption I was clamming up on him.

The man stroked my cheek, leaning my head back so I could look at him. I blinked a couple of times before he took hold of my underarms, pulling me up and forcing me to half-stand on the bed so we were at full height. The blanket I had cleverly used to cover myself fell from my body, landing back on the mattress.

"What?" I asked, the man still holding me.

"You should eat up, so you can get to the Gym before other youngens beat you there."

I blinked again, unsure why he would go through so much trouble of positioning me just to say that single sentence. He grinned, and I carefully returned the gaze, still feeling like I owed him something for not responding to that kiss. So, I moved closer, kissing him on the lower jaw, my lips gently coming in contact with the edge of his mouth. Harley reacted to this instantly, turning his head and forcing my lips on his own. He made it deepen, pulling me towards him and embracing me tightly. I knew where this was headed, and I pulled away, annoyed.

"Harley," I grunted.

But, instead of getting flip about it, Harley laughed. He gave up, apparently, moving to sit next to me and setting the tray on his lap. He picked at one of the bagels and handed me the other. I managed to cover myself with the blanket again after I took the food. When I bit into the bread, Harley said:

"You know, I don't think I've ever had as much fun as I had last night." He sipped some orange juice and crossed his legs.

For some reason, I really felt like that was a lie. It was probably because of yesterday, when I managed to come across all those weird phone numbers, and now I suspected him to have quite the eventful past. I didn't want to think back to that fight we had, though. It was too disturbing to think about how sincerely, well, _jealous _I had gotten and how angry Harley had become when I revealed that. What he had called me, though… even if I forced myself not to think about it I knew I would still remember it. The tone, the volume, the sincerity; he had been just as upset as I, but he had gotten verbally violent about it, and I hated remembering _the look_ on his face.

"Moreover," Harley went on, "I think you've proven once and for all how much you _like me._" His teasing was uncomfortable and very suggestive, but I remained calm and actually succeeded in blocking a blush.

Unfortunately, what he said was true. There was no way I could ever deny to Harley how I felt, not after last night. I couldn't even remember the last time I begged for something, and the fact I begged for _that _made me feel so stupid. But, thinking back to how much I ached at that moment—being so on-edge of some wonderful completion—I knew there was no other way I could've gotten it. How was it that Harley stirred so many needy and lustful desires in me? I had never felt that for anyone _ever._ It was such a powerful thing, really, and in some very weird way, I hoped that Harley was telling me the truth when he said I was able to drive _him_ wild.

Both Harley and I finished the small meal, and I was quick to look around the room, searching for my clothing. I spotted them on the desk, neatly folded and lain out. This somewhat clean and orderly layout made me realize that the mess of last night's dinner had disappeared. I wanted to get up and dress, but the distance between the bed and desk seemed horribly far. If I got up, I wasn't sure I'd ever make it, and then I'd be forced to have my naked self exposed longer than I cared to. This sense of decency contradicted so much of my other behavior, but the line remained thick between what I was willing to do at certain times, just like Harley had suggested at the park.

"Um, Harley," I began, trying to find myself out of this peculiar rut.

"Hmm?" he wondered, smiling sweetly, which made me think he knew what I wanted even before I asked.

"Can you get my clothes?" I tightened the blanket around me, gesturing toward the attire. I really don't know why I bothered asking because I knew he was going to make some sort of game out of this.

Sure enough, this mischievous grin made its way across his face, and he said, "Oh, you don't need those."

I frowned immediately and retorted, "Yeah, I do. You said yourself I should get going." I was too frustrated to wait now, so I got up, still having the sheet wrapped around me like a closed cloak. I felt absolutely retarded, but even worse, I felt that particular soreness seize me when I rose from the bed, and I knew it wasn't going to leave me anytime soon.

Harley rushed up, practically making the contents on the tray topple over. He hurriedly grabbed my hips, and I jerked, feeling Harley's hands move over my stomach and push me back into his chest. I squirmed, but Harley was determined, and he made sure that I couldn't get anywhere. However, I realized he wasn't trying to pull off the blanket like I suspected—instead, he turned me, making me face him. My eyes widened, unsure, before he gave me a deep, long kiss, sighing into it. I gave the kiss a moment, making sure he wasn't trying to double cross me, and then eventually put my hands against his chest, pressing into him.

When we broke apart, I sucked in my lower lip, still tasting his metallic tang. I couldn't detect any strong tobacco flavor, and this reminded me he wanted to get cigarettes. In a way, I missed the taste, but I sort wished it could be there without him having to smoke. After I pushed my face into his shoulder, trying to distract him so he wouldn't be tempted to remove the blanket, I got out of his grip, eventually grabbing my clothes and heading towards the bathroom.

In there, I cleaned myself up the best I could. I felt rather dirty, still having the lingering essences of Harley's mouth and hands… It was a rather odd feeling, knowing exactly where his tongue had been, where his fingers had grazed. I wondered whether or not Harley thought similar things. I knew he could be rather melodramatic, but again I hoped his claims of me being supposedly "glorious" and "fantastic" were sincere in his eyes. At least then I wouldn't fear just being this _object _to him.

I left the bathroom, tidied up and fully clothed, finding Harley happily reclined on the bed amongst the disheveled sheets. I threw my blanket back on the bed with him, and he turned to look at me with a specific gleam in his eye. I was really sick of him just expecting me to read his thoughts, especially since part of me truly didn't _want to_ know what he was thinking.

I grabbed my glasses and gave Harley a small shrug, telling him we could leave at any time. The man sat up, smiling broadly just as I went to retrieve my backpack. As I had my back turned to him, Harley wandered over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder and dragging it across as he circled my body, eventually standing in front of me. I knew he was going to make a move, but I wasn't sure _what_. Instead of just idly waiting and humiliating myself in the process, I looked up at him, questioning his motives. He tilted his head as if he were examining me, and when he reached to touch my face, I allowed it.

"When we leave this hotel room, are you going to start acting like nothing ever happened between us, darling?"

I narrowed my eyes. I really hadn't expected him to say this. I wondered exactly what he had in mind for the rest of the day after the Gym Battle, because he certainly made it sound like we were going to be in the position of having our relationship questioned.

I confusedly countered, "Are you going to try and make it obvious there _is_?" I was quite proud to have managed to formulate the question.

Harley scoffed. "Well, you know, I heard the Gym Leader is an old man," he informed me, "and you _know _how old men are."

I furrowed my brow. "Uh, no, I don't. What do you mean?"

The man shook his head. "You can never trust them. They go after pretty little things like you!"

My confused expression continued. "I don't know what kind of old men you're talking about, Harley, but I really doubt any respectable Gym Leader would be like _you_ and go after me."

A proud grin developed. "Oh, really?" the man mused. "I think you'd be surprised about what many Gym Leaders, high-class trainers and even those Elite Four bastards do in their personal lives!"

I shrugged. "It isn't even our business."

"It is if one of them tries something funny with you."

I managed to smile at his concern, but it was still weird. It sounded like it wasn't so much about my well-being than it was his possessiveness. "Then I guess this gives you all the more reason to come," I told Harley. "And, his name is Pryce, by the way. He uses Ice Pokémon."

"_Ice_?" Harley echoed. "You don't seem to have anything strong against that."

"I know," I admitted, rolling my eyes. "But, I also don't have anything necessarily weak either. Murkrow may be a Flying-type, but he's also a Dark."

"I'm wishing you all the luck in the world," Harley said, bending down a bit to kiss the top of my head. He slid his mouth down to the side of my face, whispering, "And, if you're the victor I think that gives us all the means in the world to _celebrate_."

I pulled away, beginning to walk towards the door. "Can we just _go_?" I insisted, not caring for his little innuendoes. "You need to pick up your cigarette things anyway."

"That's right, I do." Harley nodded again, grabbing his bag and following me out the door. I noticed he left his hat on the chair, and I guessed he wasn't going to wear it today. He looked rather empty with it, especially since taking off his hat sort of seemed like a personal thing, and it was foreign to see him without it.

Of course, leaving his hat also meant we would be back in the hotel later today. Since Olivine City was so far away, it _would_ actually be better for us not to start heading there until tomorrow morning. Even then, I doubted we'd be able to make it to the city in one day, which meant having to camp out. I wanted to breach this to Harley, but I wasn't even sure how he'd react at all. I knew he frowned upon that sort of thing, but what I feared was him suggesting not even going to Olivine or taking some means of transportation, which, in the long run, would take even more time to arrive there. If Harley didn't want to go because of something so silly I would take it upon myself just to part ways with him. I wasn't going to risk not earning a badge just because he was too sensitive to sleep outside for one night!

I decided I would bring this up at a later time, though. I knew that some part of me would actually miss Harley if we were to part ways, because as annoying as he could be—his constant lascivious attitude, for one thing—he was still exciting to be around. There was no way I could feel lonely when he was here to talk with, and maybe even on some level, what we did otherwise, was another perfect example of the way he made me feel like I had someone. I smiled at this revelation, knowing truthfully that even as conflicted as I could get about everything, I didn't really want it to end. How was it I could be so frustrated and amused with Harley at the same exact time?

Having exited the hotel, Harley and I were walking towards the direction we came yesterday. The streets were less crowded now, and it appeared that the park was practically empty. As we walked, Harley made the effort to stay right by my side despite the streets being blank. I had a feeling he was going to pull me close again, having me pressed against his side, but before anything like that could happen, the man stopped.

"This will only take a moment," he said, turning to go into a shop.

I walked halfway into the shop, staying by the entrance as Harley wandered off, going to the counter and speaking to the lady there. I stared out to the street as I waited, looking off towards the more uninhabited area of the city where the Gym and Pokémon Center were located. From here, it didn't look that busy, but I couldn't really tell. I turned around when I heard Harley approaching, the man carrying two boxes of cigarettes. He threw one into his bag then began ripping off the plastic wrap on the other, which he threw into a trash bin as we exited.

"So, my sweet," the man said, placing a cigarette between his lips, "do you have a strategy?"

"Mareep will probably do the best," I concluded, "but I'm still counting on Stantler, too."

Now Harley put his arm loosely around me, tugging me in his direction as we walked. "I'm not keen on Gym Battles as you already know, but I think watching _you _might be something of a thrill now that I consider it." He grabbed his lighter from his pocket, striking it to life and burning the tip of the long, white stick. "When _we _battled, I noticed a very intense look on your face—way different than May."

I considered this for a moment, thinking back to how May usually looked when battling. She had a very intense look, too, as did Ash. But, with May, she always became very tense, and eventually her movements grew out to something of imitating the attacks themselves. She would call out an attack, and her body would quickly morph into a clever display, her muscles bending and flexing magically as if she could predict how her Pokémon were going to perform their attack. There was nothing even remotely similar to how I battled. I knew I must have been like Ash, very strained and in deep concentration.

"May was a coordinator," I finally said, "and she had a more fashionable way of calling attacks."

"Oh? Does that mean _yours truly_ does, too?" Harley wondered, after a long drag of his cigarette. He puffed out the smoke in my direction, cocking his head curiously.

I waved the smoke away quickly, managing to stifle down a cough. I heard Harley give a small laugh, but I spoke anyway, telling him, "I can't really remember. Or, well, actually _noticed._" I hoped this wouldn't upset Harley, since he could be so sensitive. But, it was the truth. Harley had never been of a single interest to me back then, so I never took the time to examine aspects of him that weren't already extremely apparent.

Harley made a thoughtful hum, and I knew part of him was considering saying something snippy. But, instead, he stayed calm and he replied, "Well, I guess I can't get too upset. I mean, back then I couldn't see in you what I see now." He gave a high-pitched laugh.

"Maybe that's because it wasn't _in me_," I pointed out with a huff.

"Is that a confession for now?" Harley quipped, smiling widely and rubbing my upper-arm.

"No," I argued. There was no point to getting into this again, so I pointed ahead, the Gym not far off. "Look, we're almost there, Harley."

And, as we approached further, Harley muttered, "Max, you're lucky to be what you are, because I don't think I would ever submit myself to one of these damn matches otherwise." He let out a heavy sigh, pushing his bangs up and shaking his head. "How about doing me a favor and making it quick, hmm?"

"I'll try," I blandly agreed. "But, if you truly don't want to be here, you can go, Harley. I'm not forcing you."

Harley sucked in some smoke, but waved his hand about in dismissal. "Oh, no, Maximus. Like I said, seeing you battle is worth it."

The wide and obvious building was still so much older looking than the rest of the buildings in the city. Thankfully, it looked like Harley and I were the only ones around. We entered, and there was a distinct change in temperature. It was _freezing _in the Gym, completely opposite to the warm air outside. Harley must have noticed it, too, because he folded his arms, keeping his cigarette between his lips as he sucked in and blew out the smoke through his nose. This was an Ice-type Gym, undoubtedly. I was actually a bit nervous now, the cold air causing some shivers in me physically and mentally.

Harley was the first to notice someone moving around in one of the halls. I looked in the direction, seeing an older man slowly sweeping, appearing in deep thought. It was obviously Pryce, and his gray, balding hair was an appropriate match to the entire Gym's dull look. All the decorations were mundane and very boring, and I could sense instantly this Leader wasn't going to have a bright and warm attitude either.

"Why, hello there!" Harley shouted, breaking the silence.

The man stiffened and turned to face us. He gave a rather unfriendly look, very flat and deadpanned. But, he stopped sweeping, resting the broom against the wall and walking over.

"Are you here for a challenge?" the man asked, his thick, white brow raising as he looked at Harley.

Harley removed the cigarette from his mouth, blowing out quite the hefty amount of smoke. "Me? No. But, my little friend here sure is." He smiled fondly at me, a grin that I knew was very suggestive beneath everything else.

Pryce eyed Harley's cigarette, immediate disapproval setting in as he watched Harley take another drag. He ignored the revelation it was _me _who was the challenger, and said, "Please put that out."

Harley gave a quick glare, but continued to suck in the gray fumes for a moment or two before complying. He extinguished the end of the cigarette onto the bottom of his shoe, then threw the thing into the trash as he gave a rather sardonic grin. "Sorry about that," Harley apologized, and the tone was so fake that I turned red myself, embarrassed _for him._

The quick gritting of his teeth made me certain Pryce was trying to contain some of his emotions. He finally acknowledged me, looking down questionably, and asking, "So, it's you who wants to battle then. Exactly how many badges do you have?"

"I have five," I told him, frowning.

"I see," the man said. "And, is he staying?" he asked, his eyes gesturing to Harley.

"Oh, um, well, yeah, I'd like him to," I responded. Part of me wanted to laugh because Harley deserved this for being so nonchalant towards this Gym Leader. I remember how defensive my father would get when trainers and guests weren't respectful to him.

Pryce extended his arm to shake my hand. "I'm sure you know already my name's Pryce," he said.

I took his hand and quickly shook it. "Yes. My name's Max. It's great to meet you."

The Leader looked over at Harley, giving him a rather blank expression, but obviously wanting him to introduce himself.

And, so, Harley smiled, but it was false and ridiculing. "_My name's_ Harley," he revealed in a lofty tone. "But, I'm just here to watch my Maximus battle."

The nickname was enough to produce a very peculiar look from Pryce. He eyed Harley for a moment, then me, and I felt very exposed, fearing he might have suspected something. And, Harley was feeding into this now, sensing my discomfort. He reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder, rubbing it in an exaggerated assurance.

"And, he's quite the trainer, so I'd be on my toes if I were you," Harley went on, giving me a long, almost salacious stare.

I glared back at Harley. I knew he was pulling this because of how Pryce had treated him, and it reminded me so much of how showy Harley acted with May. He flipped his hair over his shoulder, looking at Pryce with an overwhelmed expression. I sighed and interrupted Harley's little act, by asking:

"So, what kind of match will this be?"

Pryce now seemed a bit distracted by Harley's attitude, especially since the man's hand was still on my shoulder, and I wasn't doing a single thing about it. But, the man's burning gaze finally made me shrug off Harley's touch, moving away slightly. Pryce seemed more comfortable now.

"If you don't mind, Max," he said, "I'd prefer a one-on-one match."

"Oh, how is _that_ a challenge?" Harley exclaimed rudely.

"Harley…" I muttered, showing complete disdain towards his attitude. I wondered if he was doing this because he was truly considering his earlier statement of Pryce's intentions, or if he was just bitter for being criticized as soon as he walked in the Gym.

"Actually," Pryce began, but he was still looking at me, "I would consider this a greater challenge. You shouldn't underestimate my Pokémon, especially the one I'm planning to use."

"It sounds okay to me," I agreed. "But, my Pokémon shouldn't be underestimated either." I gave him a confident grin.

Pryce gave a small smirk and said, "All right then. Let's go to the arena."

Harley and I followed as Pryce turned and began walking down the hall he had been sweeping. When the man was slightly ahead of us, I turned to Harley, giving him another glare. Harley just shrugged his shoulders, grinning proudly at his attitude towards the Gym Leader. I still couldn't believe he had the nerve to insult one like that, as if it didn't even _matter. _It made being around Harley quite embarrassing, but at least Pryce was still talking to me, like he knew it wasn't _me _who was disrespectful and rude. Thankfully, though, I was positive Pryce hadn't quite grasped the rest of our relationship, but I still feared it… especially with the gross soreness constantly reminding me of the extent of Harley and I.

"Don't give me that look, Max," Harley quietly hissed, but he had a ridiculous smile on his face.

"Well, don't act this way," I whispered back, sneering tensely. I looked ahead of me, watching Pryce walk. His head was turned only a little bit to the side, and I had a distinct feeling he was trying to hear the banter between Harley and me.

"Until all Gym Leaders look half as nice as your father, then I have no reason to fall on my knees for them, now do I?" Harley replied, lowering himself a bit so he could say this closely to my face.

"As a Gym Leader, my father expects respect from challengers, and I think you're being pretty—"

"Your father's a Gym Leader?" Pryce suddenly interjected. So, he had been listening to us.

I turned red, pushing in my lips for a moment. "Um, yes. He's the Petalburg City Gym Leader," I told him.

"I suppose that puts high expectations on you," Pryce concluded matter-of-factly.

We entered the arena. It was even colder than the rest of the Gym, a very brisk and nippy feel to it, no doubt caused by the large battlefield spread out across the room. With glaciers decorated throughout the shiny ice, there were also several voids of water on the field. And, as always, there were two boxes for the trainers, both of which were spared the slippery coating. Instead of having large bleachers like some Gyms, this arena only had a single bench for bystanders to sit and watch. I suddenly became very nervous, knowing Harley would be watching me battle.

The Leader turned around when he stopped, gesturing towards the bench with his head. "This is where your friend can sit and watch, if he so chooses," Pryce said, looking at Harley.

"Why, thank you," Harley acknowledged. He placed a hand on my shoulder, moving in front of me. I was so scared that he was going to kiss me—right here, right in front of Pryce—but, thankfully, he just let his hand slide down my shoulder blade, quick and fast. "Good look then, my_ Maax-ah-muus_." And, with that said, he turned, walking away towards the bench to sit.

I was red, so red, and I was forced to stare at my feet for several moments. Worst of all, I felt Pryce's piercing stare on me, undoubtedly spot-on with his suspicions. I took a quick breath, looking back up to the Leader and trying my best to remain composed.

"So, um, are you ready?" I asked, stuttering like a moron.

"Of course, Max. I suspect this will be quite the battle." He gave me a grin and walked off to the far side of the room, standing in the box.

Those sort of comments usually came after I told someone I was indeed the son of a Gym Leader. Although it was supposed to be a compliment, it was rather insulting, especially in cases like Pryce, who had previously made suggestions that minimized who I really was as a trainer. Pryce seemed to have a friendly nature underneath his current attitude, and since I had read some things about the man's past—which I wasn't sure were true, to be honest—I guessed whatever cold exterior was left was a result of not being able to let certain things go.

I sighed once more, managing to walk off to the challenger box. Harley was sitting on the bench with his legs crossed, looking rather bemused at the moment. When he noticed my stare, he gave a smile, one full of embellishment. Suddenly having a flashback of how he would treat the crowds after winning a Contest, I feared he was going to try one of his little gratitude acts, blowing a kiss or giving me some deluded wink. If he did, I knew I would just _die _of embarrassment. Fortunately, he did no such thing, and Pryce and I were free to begin our battle.

"Remember what I said, Max," Pryce called out from across the arena. "I expect you to treat this battle no different than that of a six-on-six match. My Pokémon are strong, and one-on-one matches bring out their best traits."

"I understand," I told him, and I knew instantly that using Mareep was my best choice.

"Then, let the match _begin_!" the man shouted, throwing his Pokéball onto the arena.

On the frozen coat of water came a brown hump of a creature, thick and furry with tusks extruding from underneath its large pink nose. It was a Piloswine, a Pokémon I had never seen before. I was instantly mesmerized by its somber-like look, appearing so blundering and dull. But, I knew, just as Pryce had said, not to underestimate it. Especially since it was a Ground-type, which unfortunately meant using Mareep wasn't going to do much good at all.

I clutched my fist, unsure, and for the first time—even before I had asked Harley to come with me—I considered the fact I could lose. And, what then? I would be mortified to lose a match with Harley watching. Even though he had beat me in a battle himself, losing to another opponent seemed so much more humiliating. Because, well, I cared what Harley thought about me. I didn't think I _could,_ but now it was so painstakingly obvious. Even now—at this very _moment_—I was concerned with what Harley was thinking about me, whether he was judging me or thinking one of those sensational and slightly theatrical flatteries.

I had to call out a Pokémon. I was so thrown off by a _Ground-_type—something I ignorantly hadn't even considered—that my mind couldn't even consider a good opponent. Murkrow was probably too tired from his battle with Morty, and Stantler definitely needed more training. Hoppip. Yes, Hoppip was a good choice! Even though Flying-types were weak against Ice, its Grass attacks would surely prove formidable against Piloswine's Ground moves.

I finally moved, grabbing Hoppip's Pokéball and throwing it out. "Go, Hoppip!" I called, and the pink cottonweed Pokémon landed in front of her opponent, twirling its two, long blades and floating casually above the slippery ice. I knew for certain that not having to the touch the arena would give Hoppip an advantage.

"You chose well, Max," Pryce complimented. "I'm glad to see you didn't overlook Piloswine's Ground aspects."

I nodded, knowing that my conflicted thoughts must have been obvious for a moment or two. I set down my bag and glanced over at Harley who was still looking my way instead of focusing on the battlefield. I hoped dearly that this wouldn't last throughout the battle. I turned to face the arena, extending my arm, and shouting, "Okay, Hoppip, Poisonpowder!"

"Piloswine, dodge it, and use Take Down!"

Hoppip leafs momentarily glowed with a bright, white light, preparing to send a powerful gust of powder Piloswine's way. Piloswine used the slippery ice to drag its heavy body away, sliding all the way to the end of the field and stopping itself just before a tall chunk of ice. Hoppip flew upwards, turning and spouting the dusty grains towards in Piloswine's direction. The brown creature moved away again, pushing its weight upwards and smashing its back onto Hoppip.

"Hoppip, move away, and use Tackle!" I ordered.

Hoppip recovered quickly, floating over the swine Pokémon and escaping another possible undertake. She gracefully landed on the ice, running forward and gaining much speed on the ice before she belted herself against the other creature. Piloswine let out a holler and the muscles in its back tightened, trying its best to take the attack well.

"_Endure_!" Pryce commanded.

Piloswine's muscles continued to compress, and a soft glow encircled it, a sure sign the creature was powering up. Hoppip leaped up, floating in the air again and watching carefully.

"Bullet Seed!"

One after the other, Hoppip let out plenty of seeds, spitting and sputtering out the things and aiming them all over Piloswine's lofty body. Piloswine didn't even move, just remaining stiff and unnerved.

"Tackle again and then Leech Seed!" I yelled, clutching my fist and letting my voice emit throughout the entire arena. The volume of my shout made me turn to Harley, who at some point had lit another cigarette and was smoking away casually. I frowned at this sight, knowing just how unconcerned Harley was for Pryce's wishes. I wondered if he had even noticed Harley was smoking, and if so, if he planned on saying anything about it. I sure wanted to, and this wasn't even my Gym.

Looking back at the battlefield, Hoppip had already used Tackle and was now high in the air, emitting her Leech Seed from her blades. She threw it down, but Piloswine moved, rushing behind a glacier and blocking the seed from coming its way.

"Fury Attack, Piloswine!" Pryce said, his voice rough and demanding.

Behind the block of ice, Piloswine released several stings of the Fury Attack. Hoppip evaded the first blow, but moved into the next, and the strong attack was enough to send her back to the ground, slamming into the ice brutally.

"It's okay, Hoppip," I assured. "Just get up, and use your Leech Seed!"

Hoppip listened, getting back on her feet and moving in to get a good hit on Piloswine. Unable to get in the air, Hoppip slid her body around on the ice, throwing out the seed and having it land right above the swine's nose. Instantly, the brown creature shook in a quake of pain, the energy being sucked out of it and transferring to Hoppip. An intensity restored, Hoppip bounced up, finding her ability to float in the air once more.

"Ice Beam!"

"Hoppip, use Protect!"

In unison, our Pokémon prepared their attacks. Piloswine's open mouth gathered a glistening and radiant beam of ice while Hoppip shielded herself the best she could, transferring a tough blockade in front of her. Piloswine emitted the beam, sending it right into Hoppip's direction. Instantly, the ray blasted through the barricade, breaking it and slamming into the pink creature, sending her flying backwards and against one of the many, tall glaciers.

Hoppip flew against the berg, falling onto her side and onto the icy platform. Struggling to get back up, Piloswine moved around quickly, watching her attempt to get back up. I turned to look at Harley quickly, seeing him attentively staring at the battlefield this time, his cigarette trapped between his fingers and the smoke weightlessly fleeing into the air.

"Hoppip, come on, you can get up!" I encouraged, stepping forward as far as I could go without touching the ice.

The pink Pokémon managed to get back on its feet, but she quickly fell backwards again, having to press her back against the ice block to remain standing. Looking drained and dizzy, I knew she was on the verge of fainting and likely too tired to even use Leech Seed or Giga Drain.

"Piloswine, finish this off with Hyper—"

Pryce stopped mid-sentence at the sight of Hoppip's shaking body suddenly glowing, a radiant light unlike that of any attack. The light overtook her entire form, bright and blinding and allowing Hoppip to fully stand.

"Oh, Max, darling! It's evolving!" Harley shouted from the side of the room.

I blinked several times, watching the creature's form change in the light, developing into an even rounder shape. The long blades on her head disappeared, changing into a flat, thick bud. The light went away, and I saw the new green and yellow Pokémon standing strongly on the ice.

"Yes!" I cheered, a wide smile developing. "All right, Skiploom, Giga Drain!"

Pryce regained his concentration and finished his earlier statement: "Use Hyper Beam!"

Skiploom was quick—a lot faster than Hoppip—and she speedily zoomed on top of the ice, the flat flower beaming to life and sending a quick burst of light onto Piloswine and stopping the creature's attack instantly. Again, the swine jolted and shook as energy was rapidly taken away, making the creature lose its balance and fall helplessly on its side.

"Solar Beam!" I ordered.

And, Skiploom remained quick, gathering a handful of light into her body, the energy building and building as Piloswine gave all its might to get back up, just as Hoppip had done.

"Come on, Piloswine!" Pryce urged.

But, before Piloswine even comprehended its trainer's encouragement, Skiploom released the attack, sending a full-fledge burst of light right onto its body. The swine's body was thrown back, hitting and breaking a glacier before falling by the void of water and lying there stiffly, fainted.

Several seconds went by as Piloswine made one or two attempts to get back up before it just fell back down, unconscious. Skiploom made a squeal of excitement, rushing back over to me and throwing herself against my body in a triumphant embrace. I took a few steps backwards to keep my balance, but ultimately wrapped my arms around the small creature, bringing her close.

"Skiploom, you were _amazing_!" I complimented enthusiastically. "I can't believe you evolved!"

The Pokémon squeaked with a satisfied smile. I patted her several times on the head before setting her back on the ground. When I stood back to my regular height, I saw Harley swaggering over to me, the cigarette he was holding nowhere to be found and obviously discarded wherever. He gave me quite the warm smile, and for once, I didn't feel embarrassed or suspicious by it; instead, the beaming look made me feel accomplished and proud, knowing that he was actually happy for my victory.

"I just knew you would win, my dear," he said to me, brushing his hand in my hair. He didn't even stop when Pryce began walking over. In fact, he did a couple more times before I pulled away myself, turning to face the Leader.

"You did very well, Max," the man said. "I have to admit, I wasn't expecting this." I noticed the man had recalled his Pokémon and was now holding a small, pale badge in his hand. He waited for me to open my palm so he could place the small object in my hand, and then announced, "The Glacier Badge is yours, Max." He gave a noble smile.

"Thank you very much," I said, taking the badge. I examined it further, seeing that the blue and white emblem was shaped like a snowflake. I turned to show Harley, and voiced, "I only need two more badges now, Harley!"

Harley flashed his teeth in a grin, then looked at Pryce with a somewhat cocky expression. "What did I tell you, hmm?"

Pryce was not amused with Harley's remark, and went into asking, "Do _you _have any Pokémon?"

"Yes, I sure do," he admitted happily. "I'm a coordinator."

Again, the man carefully eyed Harley and me. "Is that so?" he mused. "Well, then I'm sure you know about the Contest in Olivine City this week."

"Of course," Harley said, acting as if he were going to enter. In reality, Harley had repeatedly expressed total disinterest in the competition since he was on his little "vacation" and all.

Pryce returned to looking at me. "This was an excellent match. I'm glad to see your Hoppip evolve. That always makes a battle more interesting."

"Thank you," I repeated. "The outcome would've been pretty different if she hadn't evolved, though."

Harley placed a firm hand on my shoulder, half out of show, half out of just being _Harley. _"Oh, Max, I think you would've found a way around it," he assured as he began rubbing his thumb against my skin.

"Well, um…" I stuttered out, looking at Pryce. "It was nice meeting you. Thank you for the match." I pulled away from Harley and quickly returned Skiploom after a small gush of pride. I then began walking away from the battlefield, feeling Harley following closely behind.

"Good luck at your next Gym Battle," Pryce called out.

When Harley and I made it outside the Gym finally, I stopped walking and examined my badge once again, but this time, in the bright light of the sun. Every badge looked better than the last, and this Glacier Badge certainly was no exception. It was so shiny and new. I dug into my backpack, grabbing my yellow badge case and placing it right next to the Fog Badge. I gave a grin and showed Harley the six, perfectly aligned, badges.

"I should call my parents and tell them!" I said with excitement. "Considering how I _just earned _my Fog Badge yesterday, they'll be absolutely floored."

Harley scoffed, taking the case in his hands and looking closely at all my badges. "And, anything to make yourself look better than May, hmm?"

I bit my lip. "N-No," I argued. "This is just the fastest I ever earned two badges."

The man shut the case and grinned. "I'm sure Daddy will be proud. _I_ sure am." Harley gently hit me on the head with the case and then handed it back to me. "Though, I can't say I cared for what's-his-face very much."

I took my case and put it away, giving Harley a dissatisfied expression. "Yeah? Well, that happens when you're a total jerk in front of a Gym Leader."

Harley laughed, putting an arm around me and guiding me further away from the building. "To deny a man a cigarette is absolutely unacceptable," he explained in a sad tone. "Anyway, that didn't stop me from having another later on, which he most certainly did not stop, so I can assume he really didn't give a damn in the first place and was just being an ass."

I sighed. "And, is there a reason you lied to me by saying you weren't going to make _things _obvious and then doing so anyway?"

"Max, I promised nothing," he assured. "We came to no agreement on those terms, so I found nothing wrong with my actions."

What he said was actually true. We truly hadn't come to any agreement, which I now regretted. "Still," I continued to argue, "I think he knew something."

Harley waved a hand in dismissal. "Oh, it doesn't matter, though!"

"Where are we going?" I suddenly asked, noticing we were far away from the Gym and the rest of the town. Ahead of us was a large, spread out field and a single, rather hilly, path cutting across. There was a sign that read _Route 43_ on it.

"You're the one that mentioned the Lake of Rage," he said. "So, I figured we ought to check it out."

I brightened, looking up to him as we walked. "Really?" I wondered. "I didn't think you would care."

Harley smiled at me "I rather enjoyed our fishing yesterday," he admitted. "I thought maybe another round would serve us both good. Maybe we can catch something this time."

"I am _so _catching something today!" I exclaimed, pumping up my arms. "First a badge, now a Pokémon."

Harley's smile widened. "This is the Maximus I like seeing," he commented, bending over and kissing me on the cheek all while continuing to walk. "That little pissy boy who doesn't like to be touched isn't my cup of tea."

I grunted, not liking his comment, but allowing the kiss anyway. As we began walking through the path, Harley pulled me closer to him by encircling his arm around my hip. I allowed this also, but felt a distinct shiver of discomfort run through me, though I wish I didn't. I wasn't sure why, but I suddenly wished I could just be 100 percent comfortable around Harley and not have to worry about anything.

"I still haven't seen your Sneasel yet," I reminded Harley, trying to fill the sudden silence.

"Oh, my, you're right!" the man exclaimed. He was quick to reach into his bag, searching for the Pokéball. When he found it, he threw it ahead of us, allowing the creature out of the ball and onto the path.

The Sneasel was small and dark and actually looked a lot friendly than some I had seen. The bluish-black Pokémon instantly recognized Harley, jumping back towards him and making several shouts of its name. Harley stopped walking and turned to me.

"Sneasel, this is Max," he introduced, just as he did with Totodile.

Sneasel looked at me for only a second then put its attention back on Harley. The man allowed the creature to jump onto his shoulder, balancing half of its weight on Harley's back. Unlike Harley's other Pokémon, this one seemed rather affectionate, proven now how it was happily rubbing its face up against the side of Harley's. I watched as it continued to playfully paw him, and the two of us began walking again. When Harley noticed I was watching admirably, he cocked his head and gave a waggish grin.

"Jealous?" Harley wondered. "Wish it were you all over my face, do you?"

I furrowed my brow. "No!" I shouted, and it was the truth, too. "I just never saw you so affectionate with your Pokémon. I mean, yesterday you hugged Totodile, but this—_this_ is definitely different."

Harley patted Sneasel's head. "Well, my little Sneasel is too cute _not to _ravish," he explained. Then, after a pause, he added, "Kind of like you, my love."

"Love," I echoed bitterly. "Out of all your little pet names, I really hate that one the most. Can't you just call me _Max_—you know, _my name_?"

Harley exhaled. "Max isn't a very interesting name, though. I can turn it into quite a few things, and then totally invent my own names. You're just that special." He winked at me slyly, then pointed ahead. "I spot a lake!"

I squinted ahead, seeing the blue outline of the water, too. I also noticed there were quite a few boats on the lake, scattered about everywhere. I could even spot a variety of people alongside the water either standing or sitting, all with fishing rods in their hands. I was surprised to see how busy the lake was, though I suspected everyone there was secretly hoping there might have been _another _Red Gyarados.

When Harley and I made it out to a clearing, I noticed a narrow little building resembling the small fishing shack we had seen on the way to Mahogany Town. It seemed to be the same kind of building, where you could indeed rent equipment, but it was much tidier and spruced up. There was also a videophone under the wooden awning, which reminded me that I needed to call my parents. I hoped Harley would comply to go away as I called.

"I'll go get our fishing equipment," Harley suddenly said. "You go find us a pretty place, preferably away from all these people." The man placed a hand on my head, leaning down and speaking to me eye level.

"Uh, I actually need to call my parents," I told him.

"Hmm, I see." Harley let Sneasel jump off his shoulder just as the man bent down a little and gave me a strange, very odd embrace with a single arm. "But, I doubt either your parents can give you any sort of congratulations that matches _this._" He smiled, then pressed our mouths together, worming his heated tongue through my closed lips and sliding it against mine. Harley forced my head to fall back, and I closed my eyes, reaching up to grab his shoulder so I wouldn't fall backwards. Before Harley completely pulled away, he pressed his lips on my forehead and gave another smile.

I sucked in my bottom lip, still tasting the tobacco from his mouth. I felt sad that he had broken the kiss so soon, but I was too nervous to fuse our mouths back together. I wasn't sure how he'd react to that, though part of me knew he wouldn't have minded. Nonetheless, I continued to keep my hand on his shoulder, not really realizing one of the many people around the lake could be watching. I pushed those possibilities to the back of head and let our eyes stay in contact as I licked my lips gingerly and slowly moved closer to him.

Harley didn't move. Instead, he waited for me to make the kiss happen. I was slow, but eventually, I let our lips meet once more, and Harley was quick to turn it into a fervent, passionate liplock. I let out a strangled hum, feeling him kneel to his knees, pulling my shoulders forward so we were closer. For some reason, I smiled idiotically, and it made the kiss uncomfortable and quaint. Harley smiled, too, breaking the kiss, and whispering:

"Quite the precocious little thing when you want to be."

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment," I replied.

"Oh, it is," he assured, rubbing my back. "Now, go call Daddy."

I frowned and then walked by him, heading towards the phone as he walked inside the small wooden building with Sneasel. I stared at the blank screen for a while before managing to dial. I took a deep breath, craning my neck to the left to make sure Harley wasn't coming back out. Just as I looked back at the screen, it came to life, displaying my father. He smiled instantly when he realized it was me, and I couldn't help but smile back.

"Max!" he greeted. "It's good to hear from you again. Your mother and I didn't mean to miss your call yesterday."

"That's okay," I said as I reached into my bag. I brought out my badge case, opening it and moving it towards the screen. "Ta-da!"

My father's eyes widened, and he moved in to get a closer look. "There's six, Max!" he gasped. "Kenny said you earned your fifth."

"Yeah," I said, "I did, but I just got my sixth one today!"

"Really?" he wondered. "May just earned her third ribbon, so it looks like you two are both doing excellently."

I wasn't surprised by this comment, but it still bothered me. "Thanks," I just said.

"So, are you in Mahogany Town?" he asked.

I nodded, but let my eyes drift off the screen when I felt the presence of someone lingering around. I looked to see Harley standing by the door of the building, giving me a curious look as he held a pair of fishing rods and a tin of various supplies. Sneasel was by his feet, not moving at all, just like its trainer. I bit my lip, suddenly very nervous. I felt my face flush, and I stuttered a couple of mixed words before getting my act together and replying intelligently:

"Yeah, um, yeah, I am."

My dad caught on to my nervousness and furrowed his brow questionably. But, instead of asking what was wrong, he asked, "Are you still going to be there for a few days?"

I suspected this was about my birthday and how my father and mother wanting to send me something. I considered his question for a moment, figuring that by the time it was my birthday, I'd be in Olivine City… with Harley…

I exhaled, completely embarrassed all of the sudden. I couldn't believe that I was standing here, talking to my father while Harley just stood, off-screen, with me knowing he was there, but my father completely oblivious to his existence and what I had done in the last week. These thoughts were just the same was when I was talking to Kenny. It was as if I were lying directly to his face.

"Actually, I might be in Olivine," I finally answered. I glanced over at Harley, watching as his lips developed into a smile. He was obviously dying to know whether or not it was my dad I was talking to and what we were talking _about. _This made me even more nervous, and I stuttered out, "Um, I think I need to go now. I'm sorry…"

My father nodded. "All right. Talk to you later, son."

"Okay, bye." I quickly hung up the receiver. I turned away from the screen, stuffing my badge case back in my bag and exhaling deeply.

Harley walked over slowly, snaking an arm around me and saying, "Did you tell Daddy I said hi?"

I made a grunt. "Hardly," I said, annoyed. "You made me feel completely retarded, though."

"Hmm, well, I'm sure Norman spoke wonders of May." There was a cruel gleam in Harley's eye, one that reminded me instantly just how callus Harley could be if given the opportunity.

"I really shouldn't call my parents anymore," I concluded, sighing heavily. "All it ever does is upset me."

Harley jabbed me with one of the fishing rods. "Now, don't say that. I couldn't bear the thought of Norman losing his only son." The man began scooting me along, urging me to begin walking towards the lake since I had failed to pick a spot for us to fish.

"I'm not saying I should cut him off," I defended. "I just think I should call them less. For a while I did, and it actually made things easier."

"Whatever works for my Max," he concluded. After a moment, Harley made a considerate hum and then smacked his lips together.

xxxxx

_-Harley-_

I watched as my Max sat down beneath a pathetic treed area we had found, which was very far off from everyone else. I followed suit, slowly sitting after I brushed away some dirt and leafs. Sneasel, meanwhile, rested closer to the tree, sitting against it and closing its big, red eyes. I handed over one of the fishing poles to Max, then opened the gray tin.

"Max, do you have any Pokémon food?" I wondered, picking around for a suitable lure.

The boy blinked, but eventually nodded. "Yeah," he answered, turning to dig into his bag and handing over that organic crap I had seen before. "I should let out Skiploom," he then said, taking out the Pokémon's ball and releasing the creature.

As Max prided the damn thing for the billionth time, I opened the bag of food and poured a hefty amount before Sneasel, who began picking at it stubbornly. Hoppip—Skiploom, whatever the fuck it was—waddled over and began eating, too, looking at Sneasel with interest. I turned away and went back to setting up my line while Max talked to the two Pokémon. When the boy came back over, he began messing with his own line, and I could vaguely sense that the phone call to his parents was still lingering over his head. I was tempted to ask about it, but I knew it would only get the boy all frazzled again. So, instead, I decided it was better to just woo him up a bit, like always.

I threw the line into the water. "Max, my sweet," I said, "as you battled, I couldn't help but notice the alluring way you got all frustrated." I pursed my lips, trying to suppress my grin. What I said was very, very true. Oh, that boy looked ridiculously adorable with his fist clenched, his brow furrowed and his leg muscles all tense!

I already sensed a snide remark coming, and sure enough: "Yeah, and you sitting there smoking was alluring, too." The boy frowned at me and threw the rod's line into the water after hooking the lure to it.

"I know," I retorted. I reached over, slapping the boy's back playfully. A small, pleasant gust of wind brought me back to facing the lake. The water was bright and sparkly, almost transparent in some areas. If I squinted, I could see a few Pokémon swimming about, although I couldn't tell what kind they were.

I looked back over at Max, who was staring out at the lake as well. Ahh, why did it have to be so early in the day? I wanted so badly to fuck this kid again. That thought might've come off as a completely random and sad desire, but it really wasn't. If people just _knew _how this kid presented himself, how he made me want him no matter how early it was in the day. I mean, Christ, when he had woken up in the morning I was tempted even then to push the boy back onto the bed and shag him mercilessly.

I had been in his ass three times, and I still wasn't satisfied. By now, I had no idea what _would _satisfy me, but I didn't really care to mull that over. Max was here, he was compliant (when he chose to be), and I had him all to my fucking self. Not even his goddamn sister could take him away from me! Just the thought of that, knowing I had her brother—who I'm sure she was desperate to makeup with—oh, it made me beam with pride and accomplishment. She had lost Max, and now, _now _he was all mine.

Of course, I still didn't know exactly what had caused their falling out, though I pretty much guessed. I figured it had to do with when she went to Johto by her onsie, leaving my poor Maximus to fend for himself back home. Oh, the poor faunlet had every right to stay pissed at that sister of his. Where did she get off abandoning him like that? If she hadn't, and if she had taken him to Johto with her, I might've even seen his faunletism earlier. Oh, I was aching for the possibility of May finding out about us—I really was!

Startled by a squeal, I turned my neck, seeing my Sneasel had finished eating as much as she could. She gave me a look, hinting at wanting to rest in her ball. I dug out the object in my bag, wishing her a sweet rest and returning her. Max followed suit once Skiploom was finished, but did not say a single word, even to his Pokémon. I figured for an absolute certain that Max's mind was busy with thoughts and questions concerning his dear kin, May. I decided to breach it.

"Max," I started, puffing out my cheek to appear nonchalant, "are you willing to tell me exactly what has you so worked up about May?" And, yes, it was really a pointless thing to ask considering I had not only concluded it myself, but also _knew _Max was going to get upset. Maybe I could make that work to my advantage, though. If he got upset, I could comfort him. And, if I comforted him, oh, Max might've been willing to show me his faunlet side once more.

Max looked over to me, then back at his fishing line, which gently moved about in the soft wind. "I already told you," he said in a tinge of embarrassment. "You already know about when I call and how I feel compared to her success."

"Why, yes, I do know that," I replied smoothly. "But, I was hoping you'd let me in on exactly why you haven't chosen to make amends with your sister."

Max sighed, now uncomfortable. "I don't know," he decided to say, and it was just a result of now clamming up.

"I think you do," I insisted.

"Well, you know what it's like to have to compete with her," he muttered. "Of course, with you, that's literal, but with me, I'm competing against her in a different sense. And, I don't really like that, because I shouldn't have to—she's my _sister._ But, I've always been jealous of her in some way, because she's older and stuff." He gave a shrug, making it seem like that was the conclusion.

"Keep going," I urged, my tone proving just how interested I was in his words. But, I could tell he was nervous about sharing anything that involved May, because that's where he didn't trust me. It was ironic, really. He'd let me suck his cock and shag him, but he simply wouldn't talk about little Maykins.

"Harley," he said, looking at me in puzzlement, "this really doesn't matter right now."

"Ah, come on," I sighed out. "Didn't you always imagine traveling with your sister once you were a trainer?"

"A little," he admitted. "It's not about that, though. I mean, it was three years ago when she went to Johto, so maybe I am sort of over that, but it's really just about never seeing her in general… I don't know…" The boy let out a frustrated sigh.

Shamelessly, I scooted closer, wrapping an arm around him. "Now, as you know, Maximus, I would never want to _push you_ to make amends with her, because if you asked me, it's not a big loss, but I can see how this affects you, and it concerns me!" I grinned away from him, wondering if he'd be able to see through my overdramatic spew.

Max made a noise in the back of his throat. "I doubt it does. You don't care if I'm on bad terms with May. In fact, I bet you _love it._ Why wouldn't you? You hate her!"

I grabbed hold of the boy's chin, forcing him to look at me as I gave him a sly grin. "But, I don't hate you, Max." I gave a serious look, letting my eyes widen to emphasize the truth.

"Like I said, it doesn't matter," he grunted, narrowing his eyes. "Sure, I don't see her anymore and we don't talk, but… maybe you're right. I mean, I haven't spoken to her in months, but I'm still a trainer, and I'm still earning badges."

"And, now you have me," I concluded. "So, see, you're not completely alone." I closed the space between us, kissing him directly on the mouth while still holding his chin. I pressed into him hard, feeling his glasses on the bridge of his nose and the hot air escaping his nostrils.

Surprisingly, Max closed his eyes and was welcoming to my tongue that prodded his mouth open and collided with his. I felt his free arm shift, moving between our bodies and clutching at the fabric of my jacket. Apparently very needy, Max made no effort to fight when I reached behind him, running my hands through his hair. We broke apart for a moment—Max taking a deep breath and me losing my grip on my fishing pole—before our mouths fused back together, and I pushed my hand underneath the boy's shirt. _Ahh, _and his skin was so fucking warm and soft. This reminded me of the _taste_ of his skin, and I quickly moved my mouth down his chin and neck, sucking at his shoulder blade.

"Harley!" Max gasped, pulling away.

"Mm, what?" I wondered, giving him a questionable look.

"Something's on my line!" he shouted, pushing me away and using both his hands on the fishing rod.

I glanced over to my abandoned one on the ground, not seeing a single bit of movement. I quickly looked back over to Max, who was pulling the rod with all his might. He then stood up, backing up and winding in the line as he continued to pull. I let out a quick huff, both angry that we had been interrupted and that he was so quick to dismiss what we had been doing.

The boy skidded across the grass for a moment as he struggled. I considered helping him, but I wasn't sure if he'd freak out like last time. He had no reason to, as we had _just _been making out two seconds ago—but oh, little Maximus was so annoyingly notorious for his little mood swings. I sighed, getting up, too, and helping the boy by looping my arms under his own struggling ones. I felt him tense, especially when I intentionally pressed my lower body up against his back.

"It's getting _away_, Harley!" the boy complained, pulling his arms over his shoulder, tugging the best he could.

I exhaled, relishing his taut back against my chest and his raspy gasps of impatience. I quickly shook away the greedy thoughts, yanking the boy backwards with all my strength. He stumbled violently, causing me to as well, and the sudden force put into our fall caused the line to burst from the water. Still attached to the line, the creature flopped into the air before falling onto the land in a sudden _plop._

"Harley, it's a Corsola!" the boy exclaimed, quickly moving away from my grip and turning to grab his backpack.

The pink, stubby thing of a Pokémon hopped from its side back to its feet, bending forward and ready for a fight. Max threw a Pokéball from his bag and Skiploom came floating out, an equally anxious look on its face. The boy rushed up behind his Pokémon, clutching his fist and pointing to the Corsola with his other arm.

"Okay, Skiploom, Tackle!" he ordered, and oh, he was so demanding and fucking adorable!

And, so, the little cottonweed charged forward, slamming its weight against Corsola and causing the Pokémon fly backwards. The coral creature jumped back on its feet, running forward with its own attempt of a Tackle. Skiploom jumped up, dodging it instantly and landing behind its opponent.

"Bullet Seed!"

Producing multiple seeds from its small mouth, Skiploom sputtered them out, and one by one, they hit Corsola, making it skid an inch across the grass with each heavy pelt. Fallen on its side, Max grabbed his backpack again, throwing things here and there as he dug into it. I watched intently, witnessing frustration sweep over the boy's face as his movements became more and more neurotic and unstrung.

"I can't find it!" he blurted out. "I can't find my Lure Ball!"

"Lure Ball?" I questioned, furrowing my brow. I looked back over at Corsola, only to find the creature back on its feet and making a cowardly run for it. "Oh, it's fucking going back into the water!" I informed him.

The boy dropped his bag, watching as the stupid pink coral thing hopped back into the water, swimming away briskly. He bit his bottom lip, probably silencing a vile remark before he threw down his bag in aggravation and turning away from the scene entirely. I blinked several times, watching as the boy continued to bite his lip, seeming to press down harder and harder by the passing second.

Skiploom approached its trainer, speaking up loudly and standing by Max's leg. Max looked down at the creature, bending to pat its head and praise it despite the failed capture. Max returned Skiploom, sighing deeply once more and turning to face me with the saddest little face ever. I smiled warmly, delicately offering my open arms. Max gave me a deadpanned stare, sagging his shoulders and not moving an inch before I raised my eyebrows and gestured my arms out a little more.

"A hug isn't going to make me feel better," he droned, but nonetheless, he scuffled over, pressing himself against my chest and sighing into it. I smirked wickedly, closing my arms and tucking them beneath his underarms. I lifted him before he had a chance to protest, holding him the same way I held him the previous night.

The boy squirmed a bit, but I felt for certain that he was trying to get comfortable beyond anything else. When he settled, he narrowed his eyes, saying, "I hate fishing."

I laughed, shaking my head and mischievously sliding a finger beneath the waist of his shorts. "And, I hate seeing your pretty little face all upset-like." I grinned, teasing him by letting my lips linger around his face. "Pokémon flee all the time—you're no failure, my Maximus."

"Whatever. Anyway, stop humiliating me even more," he demanded, placing his hands on my shoulders and trying to slide off my body. When I pulled him closer he stayed still, and added, "Do you even realize you do that?"

"Maybe, but then why do you let me?" I raised my eyebrows and cocked my head. I then flashed my teeth at him, playfully clamping them together as I leaned in, pretending to bite his chin.

"Har_ley_," he groaned, pushing me away. But, all this did was turn me on, per usual. The way he insisted calling out my name was so arousing! "You're way too obsessed."

"With good reason," I told him, scraping my teeth along his cheek. "You know, Max, I'm not one for voyeurism, but I'm willing to make an exception right here and now, just for you."

This made Max frown, and he put all his effort into pushing me away and allowing himself to drop back down to his feet. I gasped at the sudden loss of weight, but the boy remained close to my chest, looking up as he furrowed his brow with disappointment. I bent down, kissing him on the head and making his eyes shut magically. And, just because I could, I snaked an arm around his waist and smacked him hard on that delightful bottom of his. The boy let out a yelp, backing up from me and giving me quite the puzzled look.

"Harley!" he yelled once again, this time with astonishment.

Ah, just the reaction I was hoping for. I played innocent, however, giving him a clueless look and stating, "So, Norman never did spank this naughty little son of his." Well, it wasn't much of playing innocent, but it was fun to play this way anyway.

"Stop," Max demanded, his tone completely serious. "You're disgusting."

"Disgusting, obsessed," I mused, mimicking all the things he called me. "Why do I put up with your rambunctious fucking self?"

Within a second I saw it—a flicker, a glimmer, a flash—but, oh it was there: this small tilt of his lips, his fight to keep his mouth completely straight. But, he _wanted_ to smile; he wanted to smile and say something absolutely snarky and quirky. Why he chose not to was either because he didn't want to admit he was _mine, _or because he knew any statement acknowledging our relationship would thrill me in more ways than one.

"Say it," I insisted, a cool smile gracing my lips. Then, slowly, I repeated, "Why do I… put up… with your rambunctious… fucking… self…?"

The boy gaped, then bit his lip, then narrowed his eyes, then sighed. He looked up at me slowly, opening his mouth and letting it hang for several moments before he said, "Because you like me." He shrugged.

I gritted my teeth, realizing this boy had purposely sucked out every bit of possible erotic twist that could've been injected into several variations of that sentence. What a fucking brat! I rolled my eyes, straggling over to him as I cornered him against one of the many pathetic trees around us. He gave me a nervous look. I gave him a roguish one. And, when I dropped to my knees, placing a single hand on his shoulder and pushing back some of my own hair, the boy gave a meek grin.

"You're not being completely truthful with me," I revealed, protruding my hips out and forcing my thighs to rub against the boy's. "Tell me the truth. And, don't make me repeat the question."

Max stayed completely silent, watching my every move: my smirk, my hand tucking some hair behind my ear, my several blinks. I even sucked in my bottom lip, letting my tongue stick out as I lapped it against both my lips, slowly and leisurely. I grinned like a madman, allowing my palm to press against his chest and crawl down to his stomach. Max gasped loudly when I lifted my thigh, letting it rest against his crotch. He fidgeted, but eventually, settled, lolling his head back against the rough bark on the tree.

"_Tell me,_" I insisted. "Tell me _the truth._" My hand was quick and fast, slipping into his pants through the waist. I came in contact with his slightly hard cock, hidden underneath his tightly worn undies.

"Okay, Harley, stop," he blurted out, grabbing hold of my wrist.

"Not until you tell me the truth," I whispered.

His cock was warm—so fucking warm!—and I let my fingers trace around the width slowly, feeling it grow harder and harder. I wrapped my fingers around, giving it two or three long jerks before the boy made a strangled gasp. I used my other hand to unzip his shorts, making the access less constrained.

"What truth?" he asked, sincerely confused. A second later, he let his mouth drop a bit more, breathing in and closing his eyes. The grip around my wrist loosened, until it fell all together.

I laughed lowly, keeping my own grip around his hot, needy length. The boy's legs tensed in an attempt to stay still, but I urged him on, stroking his cock over and over and watching as his brow furrowed deeply. I straightened my back, leaning up and locking my lips on his. Very hesitantly, he returned the kiss, and I supposed in many ways, he was trying to distract himself from my moving hand.

"So, you say I like you," I said, "but _why_? What makes you so irresistible to me?" I wondered, letting my movements slow and my lips hover over his.

The boy jutted his hips into my touch, but he quickly corrected his movement and pressed himself back against the tree. "You're just teasing me," the boy spewed, and I had to admit that he was doing a pretty good job standing his ground.

"Of course I am!" I told him with a smile. "But, _you_ do it to _me_ every hour of every day." My wrist twisted back and forth, pressing his cock directly into my flat palm and lifting it gently.

Max's knee bent, and he craned his neck, searching subconsciously for a kiss. I did not oblige, simply taunting him further with a quick flick of my tongue against his cheek and a jerk of my hand beneath his pants. The boy made a small squeaky grunt—more of a whine than anything else—and I yanked my hand out of his pants, smashing my chest against his and rubbing our thighs together.

"H-_Har_-Harley…" he gasped out, shutting his eyes and slowly moving his hips. Oh, and how he wanted my hand back around his cock!

"Mmm, my sweet little Maximus," I moaned, tugging at his shirt collar and then trailing my tongue up the side of his face.

Ahh, and magnificently, the boy—the same innocent little tart, who, just a moment ago, had grabbed my wrist and tried to halt my movements—slid his hand down to mine, urging it back to where it once was, but where I teasingly refused to let it stay. I chuckled, pressing up body tightly against his as I returned to stroking his heated, practically swelling, cock in my hand.

No longer caring for an answer to my playful little question, I pumped his length again and again and began sucking his bottom lip with my teeth. Max let out another inaudible moan, reaching up to clutch onto something, just to find the only thing was, once again, my jacket. He pushed himself forward, resting his chin on my shoulder and breathing heavily. With another jerk of my wrist and a twist of my palm, the boy came, his seed spilling over my hand and his voice calling out my name in a heated frenzy.

I kept my hand still for several moments, but eventually slipped it out of his pants and brought it to my mouth to lick off the sticky, sweet fluid. Max watched intently, catching his breath and keeping his lips parted. I brought my hand up to his mouth, pressing it against his lips forcefully. Max turned away in disgust and smacked my hand in the opposite direction.

I laughed and kissed him through a smile. I pushed back some of the hair in his face and zipped up his pants, patting him securely, which aggravated him greatly. I stood up, dusting off my knees and sighing heavily. Although incredibly hard myself, I tried my best to ignore it. I looked over at Max, who had his eyes closed and was still breathing in and out tiredly.

"The least I deserve is a nice big thank you," I stated, raising my eyebrows high.

Max finally looked up, a deep blush developing across his face before he gaped several times, attempting to say something. "I… I want to leave now," he muttered.

"One failed capture and already giving up?" I wondered. "Just like last time. You certainly have no patience."

"Well, neither do _you_," Max countered. "If you hadn't done—done _this, _then maybe I would've caught something." The boy huffed.

"Oh, blame me, will you?" I grunted. "Once again: you could've stopped _moi._"

There was a very meek smile on Max's face, but he remained embarrassed nonetheless. I gave him an impish little wink and then grabbed my bag from the lakeside. The boy grabbed his as well, then went to pick up his fishing rod. I stopped him, pulling his arm and urging him to just leave it. He did, allowing me to drag him along, but still dawdling sluggishly.

"It's pretty rude to just leave everything here," the boy noted.

I shrugged, pulling his arm harder so he stumbled in front of me. "Consider it revenge for their damn lake not giving out," I told him.

"Hey, _wait_!" Max suddenly shouted, stopping in his tracks. He pointed towards a leafy, full tree, decorated with various pulpy pink fruit, which were undoubtedly some sort of berries.

I stopped walking and gave Max a small shrug. "What about it?" I wondered.

"Those are Pecha Berries!" he exclaimed, shaking off my grip and walking off towards the tree. "We should pick some and make some PokéBlock."

I raised an eyebrow and followed. Max looked up to the tree in awe, and I could tell he was really fucking interested in the goddamn tree. Just to tease him, I swatted my hand forward, slapping his ass once again. He turned around and glared.

"I hope you know that I'm already _sore _from what you did last night. And, _that _doesn't help."

Sore? My expression softened, and I gave him a warm smile as I put an arm around his adorable little shoulders. "Oh, my poor little darling," I comforted. "That's certainly not what I intended." I continued the rest of the way with him, arm still around his body and all.

The boy was able to reach one the tree's lower branches and yank off some of the plump fruit. He smelt it curiously and reached for his backpack and grabbed this empty plastic bag out of the front pocket. He plopped it inside and then reached for another. I sighed, bored, and crossed my arms and looked over to some of the other trees with berries on them. I recognized the oddly shaped blue ones as Rawst Berries, but that was it. I had never really been a fan of crushing, mixing, fucking—whatever it is coordinators were supposed to do with PokéBlock—and I really didn't know why Max had any interest in it.

I smacked my lips together in annoyance as the boy continued to pick the berries from the tree. I finally just reached for my box of cigarettes and carefully lit one up before deeply inhaling the fumes. Max turned when he smelt the smoke and rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Come help me," he insisted, gesturing his eyes towards some of the higher branches.

"Hmm, I prefer not," I said, turning and taking a seat on a large rock. I crossed my legs and breathed in some of the smoke.

Max huffed and returned to picking at the berries, getting on his tiptoes and pulling down a long branch. His grip slipped and the branch smacked him straight in face, causing his glasses to fling up to his forehead. I laughed cruelly, tipping my head all the way back and chortling like a madman. When I calmed down, Max was straightening his glasses, and oh, did he ever look like a sweetheart.

I gave him my best smile and licked my lips. "I can still taste your glorious jizz on my mouth," I told him.

"Hey, um, Harley," he started lowly, ignoring my statement. "I have a serious question for you."

Keeping the cigarette between my lips, I murmured, "Really? You never answered mine." I then shrugged and tore the stick out of my mouth. "Of course, that led to greater and better things, so I guess you can't complain." I gave a quick flash of my teeth in a smile, but then said, "Anyway, go on, my dear."

After a mutter of something, Max asked, "Okay, um, I was wondering if all our days are going to be like this, you know? I mean, just this tedious pattern of not really doing anything but… that kind of stuff…"

"Ah, what could be tedious about it?" I wondered. "But, I'm sure we can find other things to do."

"I hope." Max let out an annoyed sigh. "Can we just agree to no more fishing? It gets us nowhere."

"All right," I said, "I'll agree to that." I watched Max wander over to the Rawst Berry tree before I stood up and wandered over to him.

"Finally going to help me?" the boy asked, giving a smile that I knew was his way of trying to seduce me into assisting.

"Do I get to pick you up?" I wondered, smiling widely.

Max shrugged, but a small dash of redness developed in his cheeks. "If that's what it takes to get one of these," he said.

I trapped my cigarette between my fingers. "Fantastic," I replied, snaking my arms around his waist and lifting him. Ironically, the berry he reached for wasn't even half of my height, and he had to squirm down a bit to get it. I laughed and pushed him up, pressing my lips against his shoulder.

Max's breathing hitched, and he turned his neck, feeling my tongue glide up his chin. I kissed his cheek until he leaned back and made our mouths fuse. I grinned in victory, realizing how grand the phenomenon of picking up this kid and feeling him against my body really, truly was!

"Faunlet," I whispered charmingly, using my teeth to tug at the bottom of his ear.

"Let's go make PokéBlock," he said, moving away from the bite.

I frowned deeply, thrown off by the statement. I grunted, loosening my grip until Max slipped back to the ground roughly. He made an uncomfortable yelp, then shook his half-full bag of berries and tied it shut.

"Why on _earth_ are you even interested in making that shit?" I wondered, watching him glare at me as I inhaled some of the cigarette. "You're no coordinator, dear."

"I know that," he retorted angrily. "But, when May learned how to make it, it really helped her Pokémon. And, it doesn't just benefit them in Contests."

"Ah, I see," I said. "I've never made any. Care to teach me?"

Max smiled brightly. "Sure, but we have to go to a Pokémon Center." Before I could answer, he grabbed my hand (oh yes, _he _grabbed _my _hand), and began scampering off, pulling me along with him.

I _so was not _interested in how to make fucking PokéBlock. I really wasn't. But, oh, little Maximus' hand felt so good against mine. I sighed heavily then flicked my cigarette down onto the ground as we began on our merry way, leaving the fishing equipment completely forgotten.

And, even though he had been the one who took my hand, _I _was the one who wasn't letting go now. In fact, when we eventually entered the main part of the city again, I tugged him along, my grip tightening every now and then around Max's wrist. When we actually arrived at the Pokémon Center, I confidently pushed the boy forward, causing the electric doors to slide open and making him stumble through them. I, on the other hand, followed in a much more fashionable manner, waving around my bag before letting it fling over my shoulder and rest there.

"You _do _owe me for this, Maximus," I said, breaking the long silence of not having talked through our return back to the city.

Max turned around and looked at me in puzzlement. "_Why_?"

"Why do you think?" I asked, extending both arms and gesturing around the lobby. "Do you really think I'd rather be here than in my cozy little hotel room… with_ you_?"

Max began untying his plastic bag full of berries and glared at me, ignoring my suggestion. "Hey, you asked if I would teach you," he stated. Then, he scanned the Center's lobby, possibly trying to remember from the previous day where the berry blenders were located.

"Hello there!" Nurse Joy gleefully chirped from behind the counter when she noticed us. She gave a warm smile, moving a tray used for Pokéballs to the other side of the counter before asking, "May I help you with anything?"

"Hi," Max said in a friendly voice. "I'm just here to make some PokéBlock, actually."

I then jumped into the conversation, walking closely up behind my boy and saying, "Oh, yes, my friend and I here are _big _PokéBlock fans." My tone was bright, but beneath it, deeply sarcastic. I doubted Nurse Joy caught onto that, though.

"Is that so?" she wondered through a smile. "Well, that's fantastic. Feel free to use the berry blenders in the back. And, if you need anything, just come get me."

Max gave her a grateful nod and went on his way to the backroom, where Nurse Joy had revealed the berry blenders resided. The room was much like all the others I had been in before: a big large table with five or six blenders spread out, a shelf of recipe books and some lounging sofas. There was actually no one else in the room, but some areas of the table had a scattered assortment of chopped berries, which led me to believe others had been here earlier. Max quickly set his bag down at the cleaner side of the table and opened the blender to begin.

I casually wandered through the room, sitting back on the large sofa and crossing my legs. "Have any idea what you are even going to make?" I asked.

"Of course," he answered, looking over his shoulder at me. "My sister used to make this stuff called Purple Surprise—or _May's _Purple Surprise—and all her Pokémon _hated it, _including Ash and Brock's, too!"

I laughed at this, my lips extending in a wide smile. It was sort of malicious of me to laugh at something so negative about his sister, but the boy really did not seem surprised. Plus, it was just hilarious: May's Purple Surprise. I mean, what the fuck? I eventually said, "I'm not surprised. It wouldn't startle me in the least to discover May poisoned some of her Pokémon."

"She didn't _poison_ them, Harley," he defended, pouring out his bag of berries onto the small wooden copping tray. "Actually, remember her Munchlax? She caught him after she discovered it liked her PokéBlock. It was wild and made its way into the Pokémon Center and ended up eating all the PokéBlock she made." He smiled at the memory, obviously thinking back to more than he verbally revealed.

I scoffed. "So, she caught it because it liked her PokéBlock? Hmm, guess she needed reassurance _someone _enjoyed her existence." I laughed at my own joke.

But, Max rolled his eyes, biting his lip to prevent himself from saying anything. From a distance, I could see him separate the Pecha berries from the rest, and much to my own fright, took one of the clean knives that rested in the center of the table to begin chopping. After one chop, I suddenly jumped up, rushing over to his side.

"Oh, Max, a boy your age should not be handling such a weapon!" I looked at Max seriously: my eyebrows raised and my arm extended so he would hand over the knife. Honestly, Maximus was _not _going to be handling a knife—not on my watch, anyhow!

Max furrowed his brow and said, "I've done this a million times." He returned to cutting the plump pink berry into small pieces, not being bothered by my overdramatic concern.

I stopped his chopping by grabbing his wrist gently. He paused, looking up at me in confusion before I took the knife from his hands, and with the other, wagged a finger at Max orderly. "Let me, Maximus," I insisted, scooting him over with a push of my hips and moving in front of the chopping board.

"Harley, come on!" he shouted. "I've done this before!"

I gave him a smile, but I did in fact look at the berry carefully before slowly cutting it with precision. "Like I said: a boy your age should not use a knife," I lectured. "You need some paternal supervision."

"Parental?" he echoed. "Oh, _please_, you are anything but." He let out a heavy sigh, watching me continue to cut the fruit. I knew I was doing more than fine, too, but I was sure for _him _it was just a matter of being insulted that I insisted to do this myself.

"And, it's a good thing," I noted, giving another one of my winks. I patted Max's back gently, bringing my hand up to the back of his neck and stroking the nape of it for a second. He shivered at the touch, but I continued on with his statement, saying, "If I were your guardian, I'd be sure not to let anyone else ever talk to you. I'd make sure you'd be all mine. Oh, _yes._"

He frowned. "Harley, come on," Max nagged. "Let me do something!"

I finished chopping the Pecha berry and set the knife down. A shrewish frown developed on Max's face, and I smiled despite it, poking his nose roughly and leaning in close. He continued to glare, but I flashed my teeth in a large smile. I eventually pushed closer, kissing him on the lips rather quickly. I didn't give the boy time to respond, although I wasn't sure if he would've since he was upset with me.

"What else do you usually mix in?" I wondered, still remaining close and making my words a soft whisper.

Against what I guessed was his own will, he still blushed. His face was so close to mine, and I could smell his sweet, pretty scent on both his hair and breath. His engaging expression and warm breath was enough to make me pine for our lips to be touching again, but I forced myself to push the thought in the back of my head, knowing he wasn't interested in _that_ right now.

Max eventually said, "I put some of these berries in the mix." He reached over to the pile he made, taking out another type of berry, which was a deep purple color. "The final product usually comes out really dry, but my Pokémon seem to like that."

I nodded, taking the berry and beginning to chop it up. "Maybe Stantler might, too," I said, curving my hip again to tap him with the side of my body. "Oh, my little Maximus, this is fun, isn't it?"

Max shrugged in a droopy way and muttered, "I guess." He reached for another berry, this time a Rawst Berry, and slid it over to the board. "Can I do this one?" he asked, but it was more of a demand than anything else. Since I didn't respond right off the bat, Max just pushed himself in front of me.

I decided to be pretty compliant with the move, but I was quick to place one hand on his shoulder and reach over with the other so I could hand the knife to Max properly. "I think you're going to need some tutoring," I said, taking his wrist gently.

Max froze, unsure what I was trying to do. "I already _told you_," he said, "I know how this works. And, I've only done it a jillion times!"

I chuckled, bending down a little as I stood behind him and pressed my body against his back. "But, you still might be a bit inexperienced," I asserted, lowering my grip on Max's wrist so the knife pressed down on the berry.

Max stiffened as I pushed myself further against him, making sure my chest meshed against his back. I leaned in more as I continued to help the boy chop the small blue Rawst berry, eventually moving my face near the side of his.

"Having fun?" I murmured.

"No," he said stiffly. "Would you let go, please?"

I laughed and pushed the knife down one last time, cutting the last of the berry before actually following through with his request. Max then set down the knife and began scooping up the berry bits and dropping them into the blender. Just as he readied himself to press the start button, I leaned in towards his neck, giving him a very sloppy and wet kiss on the exposed part of his shoulder. He jumped, turning around and slapping me roughly against the chest.

"My, my, quite the powerhouse!" I exclaimed, mockingly stumbling backwards a few steps.

Max muttered something once more and quickly turned to press the button. The small machine started up quickly, grinding up the berries into more powder before turning it into small cubes. They quickly fell out from the opening and Max gathered them up, examining a few in the light.

"These look great!" he said with pride, seeming to completely have switched moods with his own victorious happiness. He turned slowly, holding them up so I could see them. "But, I think your chopping made them a bit uneven," he pointed out nastily, just to be a brat.

I gave him a snarky look, moving closer to get a glance of the small purplish block he held between two fingers. It looked like a perfect cube to me. In fact, it looked fucking _beautiful _because I had helped Max chop the berries, and he should have been happy that I had protected him from that dangerous knife! Oh, if his soft, creamy, flawless skin had been cut just the _bit _I would've had to scream!

"Let me have a taste, darling," I suggested, licking my lips in an exaggerated way. Before he could answer, I craned my neck, trapping his thumb and index finger in my mouth and sucking until Max let go of the PokéBlock. He began pulling his slender digits out of my mouth, but I gently clamped my teeth shut and licked his salty tasting fingers.

The boy's breathing hitched, afraid I might actually hurt him. I smiled through the bite, grazing my teeth along his skin before I let his two fingers fall from my mouth. Max blinked several times, still holding some of the cubes in his other hand. He looked at the wet fingers then back at me, completely dumbfounded.

"What is it?" I asked, pursing my lips as if I were savoring the taste of his fingers the same way I savored the taste of his come.

Max shook away the concern and popped one of the blocks into his mouth to try for himself. He seemed to enjoy the taste, and I had, too. It was indeed rather dry, but it did have a sour tang, too. Max even bit his bottom lip to control an overemotional grimace of rancid vulgarity. It was adorable, too! The way he sucked in his cheeks and closed his eyes for a millisecond.

"I don't know if my Pokémon are going to like these," he grunted. "They are a bit too sour."

I stroked his hair playfully, moving him back to face the table and blender. "Well, if that's so, we ought to make some more."

Max made a pondering sound and set down the few blocks he still held in his hand. He then dug out something from his backpack, which looked like a small red dispenser for PokéBlock. He began putting the blocks inside it as I chopped some more of the Pecha berries.

"I wonder if May ever got any better at making this stuff," he voiced half-attentively.

"Who knows," I groaned out, rolling my eyes at the mention. I was starting to _really _hope she would become absent from all our conversations, the trollop.

"She actually let me be in charge of feeding Munchlax some PokéBlock," he then revealed, smiling fondly as he continued to put cubes into the dispenser.

"Oh?" I said, chopping the berries more precisely just to distract myself from what he was actually saying.

"Prof. Oak—you know who he is, right?—well, he gave May this recipe for a certain kind of PokéBlock that would automatically make Munchlax full," he revealed happily. "Prof. Oak used to give it to Ash's Snorlax."

Prof. Oak, hmm? I wasn't sure I was too fond of the way Max said his name. I had heard of that professor man, but never really gave him a second thought. Why the fuck did Max seem so chipper all of the sudden? I stopped chopping the fruit and began collecting it in my palm so I could dump it into the blender, all the meanwhile sucking in my bottom lip in a tense confusion.

"Oak?" I wondered nonchalantly, urging the boy to go on about this fucker.

"Yeah," Max said, and he was so oblivious to my disgruntled attitude. "He lives in Pallet Town, where Ash is from, so Ash is good friends with him. I met him, too!" He finished with his chore and looked up to me, his eyes so fucking bright and excited that I was shocked. And, yet, _I _couldn't provoke this look from him?

I gave a small glare and turned on the blender. "Sounds to _me,_" I said, over the loud grinding sound, "like you have yourself quite the little crush, _Max._" I made sure to give a rough emphasis on his name.

Max immediately turned red, and this infuriated me completely! He narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, but eventually stammered, "N-_No, _it's not like that. I just admire his work."

I wasn't convinced, so I said, "Well, he is quite up there in the age department. And, I know how you like yourself some older male attention." I laughed under my breath. "I guess it isn't that much of a surprise."

Max turned even redder. "Harley, come on," he argued and he furrowed his brow in a pleading sort of way. "Prof. Oak is… _old._"

"Like I said, my sweet, you like the older gents."

"No, I don't!" he said and then turned off the blender himself. He busied himself by collecting the freshly made PokéBlock from the opening, looking at it curiously.

Max seemed serious, and I supposed the blushing was simply due to an everyday embarrassment as opposed to being found out about something. Still, this was becoming fun, so I said, "Then, what are you doing here with a man twelve years your senior, huh, Maximus?"

The boy looked _humiliated _now, but he was brave enough to reply with: "Well, I thought you didn't consider yourself old, Harley." He looked at me accusingly, but was obviously very proud of his statement.

"I don't think I said a single thing about being _old_," I protested, glaring a bit. "Being older and being _old _are two different things."

Max considered this, shrugging slightly. "Okay, maybe, but still, I _don't like _Prof. Oak," he concluded and put the new PokéBlock into the half-full dispenser.

"All right," I said, "I believe you."

I supposed it was possible I decided to deny this just for the sake of not _wanting_ Max to have an interest in some rickety old man; but, honestly, I could sense sincerity in the boy's words. There was a matter, however, of what _I _was in Max's eyes, if I was truly "old," in his book and whether or not he was being a lying brat by saying he didn't desire the ravishment of folks older than him.

"Good," he muttered, and he made an exaggerated shiver of disgust towards the thought of Prof. Whoever. When I laughed at his grimace, Max looked up at me with a similar amusement, but it didn't last long. "But, _anyway,_ Harley…"

"Mmmhmm?" I hummed, but I knew he was going to continue on with whatever he was talking about involving May and her Munchlax.

"It's odd," the boy stated sadly, "because even though I wasn't _too, too _fond of Munchlax, I always liked being able to feed it. It gave me responsibility, and knowing May thought I was responsible made me feel good."

I snorted rudely, and quipped, "If you ask me, it sounds like she just didn't want to feed Munchlax herself, that lazy girl."

"Well, I _didn't_ ask you," Max hissed, scowling as he cleaned up the mess from the PokéBlock. "But… I bet she wouldn't trust me _now_," he admitted, packing away the PokéBlock dispenser.

"Why's that?" I wondered curiously.

"It's been forever since we've talked," he told me. "I'm sure by now she's met someone who she could trust way more than me." Disappointment washed across Max's face, and I knew this was the first time he took the revelation into consideration.

"Then, let her," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "It's her loss. I mean, who could be more reliable than sweet, little Maximus?"

"Actually, it's my loss," he argued. "I could end all of this nonsense by just apologizing… even if I think we _both should._" He let his shoulders sag as he wandered over to the sofa against the wall and sat despondently.

I stayed where I was but casually leaned up against the table, folding my arms and watching the boy sit there in his slump of depression. "She left you," I pointed out.

"Yeah, but, I feel so _stuck_ about it," he stated, and I wasn't sure what he meant. Then, after a moment, he continued with: "Sometimes I can't believe she actually left me all those years ago, and I get so mad about it, but I can't get over it no matter what. And, worst of all, I can't even get myself to talk to her! And, I want to!"

Startled, I was forced to blink mindlessly several times before I could allow myself to fully take in what the boy had spilled out to me. I collected myself despite it all, and asked, "Would it make you happier if you did talk to her again?"

"Of course it would," he answered, saying it as if my question were the dumbest thing I ever asked. "She's my sister. I spent such a long time traveling with her and sharing so many adventures… and even admiring her. I miss that, and I miss _her._"

I didn't say anything. I couldn't say anything. If I had, it would've been something cruel, and as much as I hated Max's pathetic sister, I couldn't get myself to spew out a nasty remark that might've negatively affect _him. _So, instead, I just watched the boy sit there, sad and so desperate to reconnect with May.

His expression then softened, and he smiled whimsically. "I mean, sometimes I get upset when I think about May, but lately it sort of makes me feel better. But, only because when I think about the way she smiled after winning a Contest, it doesn't feel like we have this huge strain between us anymore."

Her smile, eh? I thought about the few times I had seen the girl smile, and I found nothing magical about it at all. She just seemed like some giddy airhead, really, and the fact Max had admitted to admire her sickened me. What was there to admire?

"I know it's silly," the boy said with a shrug, "but, um, there was always this sort of _smell _that she had…"

Smell! What on earth was he getting at? I hid my surprised reaction and retained an interested expression without so much as a small hint of what I was truly thinking.

"And, I'm not saying you smell anything like her, but you do have a smell. And, when I smell it, I think about her smell and then it makes me think of that smile she had. And, then, thinking about that reminds me of how her eyes would just _light up_ and stuff." He stopped and shrugged. "I know this all sounds pretty stupid, but since you've been asking what's been bothering me, I figured you should know, because well, _that's _what's been bothering me."

Her smell! Her smile! Her eyes! What the fuck was Max talking about here, his sister or his greatest love of all time? I scowled deeply, completely dumbfounded by the way he was talking about his goddamn sister. He never said anything like that to me, nothing even remotely close. Either he just missed his sister _a lot_ or he had a whole lot more affection for her than I thought. I couldn't grasp my mind around even half of that, so I just nodded and said:

"You can always call her."

Max looked up at me, either angry that I was mocking him (and, in many ways, I was) or shocked that I would say something that could've been taken as a helpful little suggestion. He eventually gave a sad smile and said, "I could, but what would I say?"

I began to doubt he was playing with me, allowing me to drag him about as I messed with him in return, and I was now under the assumption he very much believed I was offering him a sincere, honest heap of advice. This alone suddenly proved to me that Max could be such a simpleton, such a young and naïve child that I easily could've brainwashed to believe something if I wanted.

Max broke the silence by telling me, "I don't think I could talk to her without making a fool of myself."

"You think?" I wondered. "Because, you've proven to be quite the brave thing to _me._" And, this I actually meant. How could Max _not _be brave after he allowed himself to take a huge chance by deciding to travel with me, and moreover, allowing me to fuck him?

"Don't insult me," he grunted, crossing his own arms.

I snorted, unable to believe how ironic it was that Max thought my only sincere comment was a mockery. I decided to walk over to the sofa to sit myself. "No, no," I said, waving about a hand, "I'm being serious, darling. Weren't you scared out of your mind when I made my first move on you?"

"Obviously," the boy replied, knowing we had already been through that conversation enough to last a lifetime.

"Consider how much bravery it took to allow someone _into _your body," I offered, letting the volume of my voice drop greatly. "You could've taken the easy way out and ran off, but _ohhh nooo_—you let us have a wicked good time!"

"I thought about some of the scary things I had done myself before you and I took things a step further, Harley," he revealed to me, sounding embarrassed. "Like, when I left home for the first time, or when I came here to Johto. It settled my nerves a little, thinking that maybe being with you couldn't be as scary as those things."

"Hmm," I mused, biting my thumb gently as I pondered whether to be insulted by this. Obviously losing one's virginity was amongst the scariest things a person could go through, but I hated to think Max was comparing it to leaving his goddamn home and the sort. Still, what was I complaining about? We had shagged already. "Anyway, Max, I think you're a _braveling, _so I don't see the problem here."

"Braveling?" Max echoed. He then bit his lip. "You see me as a kid, though."

"Well, aren't you?" I asked. "Kids can be brave. And, goodness, you have to be _stupid _to still be under the assumption I think you're a normal, everyday kid. Because, darling, you're not." I gave him a knowing smile, half-suggestive, half-assuring. Suddenly, though, I really fucking hoped none of this was going to backfire on me, that he was really going to call the bitch and beg for forgiveness.

Max shrugged now, either given the boost of his ego that he was searching for, or, maybe, actually convinced for real. He nonetheless managed to smile in a very sweet way, keeping his eyes locked on mine for a while. "Thanks… I guess…"

I decided I fucking _loved _the smile he gave me, so I went on, telling him, "I'm being honest, Max. I think you're a brave, remarkable lad. I mean, let's face it—May hadn't started her journey alone, but you did. And, you've continued to do go about independently." I reached out, stroking Max's cheek with my index finger.

And, Max's smile fucking extended. "Maybe," he considered, but I didn't know why he bothered to be modest when he _knew _what I was saying was the truth, and more importantly, when he had always proven to be quite egotistical at times.

I was about to lean forward, giving him a nice, firm kiss on the lips, when, much to my surprise, Max moved closer, terminating the space between us and craning his neck. His lips, shaky and unsure, pressed against mine, feeling so warm and delicate. And, damn, just as I began to return the liplock, he moved, turning away from me and standing up in a heap of embarrassment.

So, to settle his nerves, I gave him a laugh, grabbing his chin and forcing our lips back together. Surprised, Max became stiff, but relaxed quickly when I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer as he stood and I sat.

"I think this is the first time you made me feel sincerely better about something," he said when we broke apart.

"Really, eh?" I raised my eyebrows curiously. "What about when we first spent a night together? Of course, I don't mean a night like _that, _but a night in the same hotel room, after you called Daddykins on his birthday?" I smiled, pulling him forward and forcing him into an embrace.

"Well, sort of," he voiced. "You made me feel better, but not 100 percent better."

"So, you're 100 percent better _now_?" I wondered.

"Well, no, but close. Because, I guess what you said is true. If I can do all of those things, including, um, _stuff _with you, then maybe I do have the strength to talk to May again."

I frowned. _Fuck. _I really shouldn't have said any of that.

Ah, but he had given me that delicious smile and one hell of a consensual kiss! Besides, maybe he wouldn't _really _go through with getting in touch with his sister. Wishful thinking, I suppose, but right now, I wasn't in the mood to deal with those issues. Knowing that he was happy now made me feel relieved, and I was glad to see him so light-weighted.

xxxxx

_-Max-_

Harley and I arrived back at the hotel room around seven o'clock. After we finished making my PokéBlock at the Pokémon Center I made several nagging attempts to get Harley to eat at the cafeteria with me. We hadn't spent a large amount of time eating, as Harley had been picky, but now that we were back in the room, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, eating a pack of peanuts, completely nonchalant and seemingly lost in his thoughts.

I was sitting on the bed as well, but on the far side, against the headboard with my PokéNav in my hands. I was trying to map out which routes we would take to get to Olivine City, and so far, all of them were ridiculously long, and it would no doubt take a day and a half to get there. It was possible for us to go back to Ecruteak and take the train in the outskirts to Olivine, but that was still a long journey, and there were plenty of routes that bypassed Ecruteak completely. I wondered what Harley's preference would be, but I was nervous to ask, in case he tried to persuade me to just forget Olivine, which was so out of the question! I needed my seventh badge, but there wasn't anything there for Harley. Even though he had wanted to go there while in Goldenrod, the city was too far now, and it was reasonable to assume he had forgotten about the place all together.

Of course, there _was _that Contest in Olivine City, which Pryce had reminded us about today. Harley acted like he was going to enter it, but given the arguments we got into before, I was now a little confused. I glanced up at Harley, watching him carefully chew one of the peanuts as he mindlessly stared off into the room.

"Harley?" I voiced casually. When the man turned, looking at me and then the PokéNav, I continued, saying, "So, I was wondering about the Contest that Pryce mentioned…"

Harley gave a curious look, but I knew he was already spot-on with what I was going to ask. "Yeah?" he said anyway, crinkling up the packet and throwing it across the room.

"Maybe you should enter…?" I said, half-question, half-statement. I shrugged. "I know you don't want to, but it could be just for fun." I smiled at him, trying to remember the particular variation that made him soften up.

The man crossed his legs and made a thoughtful sound. "W_eeeeee_ll," he sung out with amusement, "I did come to your Gym Battle, so if I were to figuratively enter this Contest, I would assume you'd come to watch."

I brighten a bit, believing that with just a tad bit more persuasion, Harley would agree to entering. I wasn't sure _how to_ persuade him, though, since my smile wouldn't be that powerful. "Of course!" I exclaimed nonetheless. "I like Contests, and it's been a long time since I saw any of your Appeals."

Harley gave a confident smile, pulling off his boots and letting them drop to the floor. He then crawled his way up to where I was on the bed, reclining next to me happily. "But," he countered, "I assume you haven't been to a Contest in like three years!"

"Actually," I revealed, "I've been to several. Granted, it's not the same without having May to cheer for, but when I was traveling through Hoenn, I occasionally went to a Contest, if I had time."

Harley was slightly surprised, and I guessed he thought I would never even consider watching a Contest unless May was participating. Truthfully, I never enjoyed them before May had become a coordinator, but afterwards, I truly appreciated them. They were different, and really, really fun to watch.

"I'm supposed to be on a vacation, though," the man said in a flip tone, and I wondered if he was trying to get me to persuade him.

"Well, it never seemed like one to me," I argued, closing my PokéNav. "All you've been doing is following me around."

"And, it's fun," he said, grinning widely. "Relaxing, too. And, if I were to actually enter this fucking thing, I'd have to _work on _an Appeal and maybe have a few battles and whatnot."

"I'll help you," I insisted, putting down the yellow device on the nightstand. I turned to Harley as I sat on my knees, looking at him sincerely. "We can battle more. It will be fun!" I gave another smile, and I was actually truly getting excited about this.

Harley swung an arm around me, bringing me close and making me lose my balance on my knees just a bit. "Ahh, but that would distract you from your training," he whispered, grinning.

I shook my head. "No, I think it would contribute to it," I said. But, Harley's cool and suave tone was making me a little bit nervous, and it reminded me of how he acted last night and then today when we were fishing: that manipulative, controlling playfulness, desperate to get me to say or agree to something. Both times he had worked me up until I had no choice but to pathetically comply, but ultimately we had gotten what we wanted.

"Such a sweet, considerate boy," Harley teased, rubbing my shoulders with his hands. But, he seemed to still be playing this game with me, refusing to answer but refusing to say an all-out no.

I wondered, suddenly, if _his_ tactics for getting me to say yes to something would work if _I_ used them on him. But, I seriously did not have the courage to try something that extreme. That disappointed me, but it was true. So, in desperation to prove I still had some courage, I leaned in towards Harley, parting my lips slightly before I carefully pressed our mouths together. The look on Harley was definitely satisfaction. He had indeed wanted me to play this way, and since he apparently knew how much I wanted him to enter the Contest, he was bound to have predicted this tactic.

He laughed through the kiss, but still pulled me close as he sat up and made me loosely sit over his lap. I turned my head, deepening the kiss as best I could before I moved away and looked at him blankly. He still looked very satisfied.

"So, you're going to enter, right?" I smiled, but tried to shrug the heavy weight of his arm around my shoulder.

Harley just tightened the arm around me, using his other to guide me over his legs so that I clumsily landed on his lap, being forced to sit there. It was an odd feeling, but not like the first time he forced me to sit on his lap; this time I was positioned directly on him, my legs on either side of his thighs. I blushed, feeling embarrassed by the contact, but Harley brushed some hair out of my face and gave a soothing sort of smile back at me.

"How about I think it over, eh, kiddo?" he said, and he did this crazy thing with his hips, making a wave through his legs so that he made contact with my lower-self.

I stuttered several times, feeling the particular heat in Harley's body and the eagerness in his muscles. "O-Okay," I finally managed. Then, I looked away and said, "I should probably take a shower now."

Instead of giving a disappointed look, Harley raised an eyebrow. "You think? Why not a pretty little bath for a pretty little boy? I have an astonishing amount of bath salts that smell really nice."

"Pretty?" I echoed, frowning. How on earth was I _pretty_? I was a boy, and I never ever considered myself attractive at all. I was too young to be anything but a _kid._ "I don't take baths anymore." Actually, I couldn't even remember my last bath! The last memory I had was taking a bubble bath with May when I was, like, four years-old. I was about to share that with Harley, but I figured he'd make something perverted out of it.

"Oh, no, Max, you will want to take a bath with what I come up with!" he exclaimed, and surprisingly, lifted his arms in a scooting gesture. I slid off his lap, slightly relieved, and watched Harley rush to his bag, grabbing some plastic pouch full of colorful-looking squares.

I looked at the bag closer, seeing they were each individually wrapped. He opened the pouch, offering me a sniff, and when I did, I smelt an overwhelming combination of fragrances that I couldn't even begin to label. I picked out a yellow one from the bag, bringing it to my nose and taking a whiff. It smelt awful, so I replaced it and took a pink one. It smelt exactly like Harley, and I was forced to look up to him as a reminder.

"What?" he wondered, seeming offended.

"I don't want to smell like _you,_" I informed him blandly. "I mean, I'm not saying you smell bad—you don't!—it's just… I don't think these are something I want to smell like. I don't like baths anyway."

"Yes, you do, everyone likes them!" the man argued. He dug out a blue colored square and brought it up to my nose, allowing me to smell. "Good?" he asked.

I frowned at the way he ignored my comment. However, I did enjoy the smell of the blue colored salt. It was soft and delicate, and reminded me… of May, actually. Granted, it didn't really _smell _like my sister, but it just had this certain aspect to it that made me think of her. I took it in my hands and looked at it closer.

"So, does it dissolve in the water?" I asked.

"Oh, yes." He grabbed the tablet back, unwrapped it and hopped off the bed, making his way to the bathroom. I heard him turn on the tub faucet, the heavy weight of the water gushing down and blocking out something he yelled from there.

Was he really drawing me a bath? That seemed so dumb, especially with the bath salt. I wasn't him—I didn't like that kind of stuff—and I really didn't like the idea of taking a bath around him. I had a feeling he'd leave me alone, but it was still odd. I managed to get off the bed, making my way towards the bathroom. Harley was on his knees with his jacket's sleeves rolled up and his arm testing the water's temperature.

I stood next to him, watching the water fill the tub, already halfway. I cocked my head, looking at him questionably. "Is there any reason you think I have to take a bath, Harley?"

The man smiled when he heard me say his name. He seemed to like that all the time, actually. "No, I just think you'll like it is all." He turned away to concentrate on the water, and I suddenly began to suspect he had an ulterior motive. And, as if on cue, he used his free arm to pat my calf, telling me, "Take off your clothes."

I blushed brightly and narrowed my eyes. "Um, later," I said, biting my lip.

Harley looked back at me, giving a lopsided grin. "Oh, Maximus," he said, rolling his eyes, "don't act like I haven't seen everything already."

"But, this is a bath, Harley," I debated. "It's not… _other stuff._"

The man snorted, smiling through it as he turned off the faucet. The water was mid-level, and I felt the steam from it heavily. It even began to fog my glasses, so I took them off, placing them on the counter near the sink. I looked back in Harley's direction, seeing his roguish smirk.

"Don't be silly, Max," Harley voiced with a shrug, dropping in the blue salt tablet. It frizzled, spreading out across the water and turning white. "Would you feel better if I stripped, too?" he then asked in a lower tone.

I turned even redder, but his question made me nervous, so I cautiously began to remove my shirt, feeling his burning gaze the entire time. I placed my shirt on the floor, feeling totally humiliated the way he kept _watching _me. I froze, unable to go any further and unzip my shorts. I just stood there, my hands in the right position, but nothing more. The helpless expression on my face provoked Harley to reach forward, using both his wet and dry hand to assist me, unzipping my shorts and pulling them down—all the meanwhile staring up at me and grinning like a madman.

"Need help with these?" he asked, pushing his thumbs into the waistband of my underwear. When I didn't say anything, he moved his body forward, leaning down and grazing his teeth over my stomach and hip. He eventually brought his head further down, trapping the waistband between his teeth and slowly—very, very slowly—pulling them down with the help of his hands.

I closed my eyes tightly, my cheeks burning with embarrassment and my body's temperature rising considerably. Harley took my hand, lifting it and urging me to step over the ledge and into the tub. I remained frozen, but he urged me more, and so I stepped over, my left foot sinking into the warm water, and then a moment later, my right. Now standing in the tub, Harley fixed his sleeves, pulling them up a bit more and then took my hand again, gently pulling me so I would sit down in the tub.

The water was incredibly warm and pleasant. It looked semi-transparent, but clouded here and there from the salt. The scent was beginning to rise into the air, and I was able to detect the slightly brine-y and vinegary smell, sort of like a faux ocean aroma. I sat against the far side of the tub, leaning against the wall and closing my eyes, avoiding Harley's intense stare and the instant sting in a particular area when I felt the soapy salt substance make contact.

"Nice, huh?"

I opened my eyes. "Yeah, it actually is pretty nice." I let my muscles relax before I slid down against the wall, dunking my entire body under the water. I quickly came out, shaking off some of the excess water that dripped from my bangs. Drenched, I looked over at Harley who had a ridiculously large smile on his face.

"This brings back memories," he reminisced, and I realized that while I was underwater, he had grabbed a bottle of shampoo from the ledge. "Remember how you swam in Goldenrod?"

I nodded with a blush, then reached for the shampoo. Harley lifted his arm up, quickly preventing me from reaching it. "What are you doing?" I demanded, glaring at him.

"I want to help," he said lowly, uncapping the small hotel-brand shampoo and pouring some into his hand. He reached out to begin washing it into my hair, but I backed away, still scowling.

"Harley!" I groaned annoyingly. "Just let me do it!"

"N_ooo,_" the man continued, slapping it onto my head and quickly beginning to lather it into my hair.

I grunted uncomfortably at the pressure he forced on me, and he eventually began to lessen the pressure until my entire head was covered with the soap. I felt ridiculous, knowing my hair was nothing but a big foamy mess. I sunk down to try and go underwater, but Harley grabbed my arm, preventing me.

"It needs to set for a while, Maximus," he informed me cleverly. He then shrugged off his jacket, and I guessed he was getting uncomfortable in the enclosed humid area of the bathroom. He threw down the attire near my own clothes, revealing the tight, black tank-top.

"You don't have to… _bathe _me, Harley," I protested dully. I knew, however, that no matter what, he was going to continue on with this weird plan of his, and although it was completely disturbing to think about him actually washing me, it wasn't much different than anything else we had done.

"I suppose you are right," he agreed, much to my surprise. "But, you know, Max, I wouldn't mind a nice, soothing bath myself."

"Didn't you already take one this morning?" I asked. Then, shrugging, I just said, "Well, I won't be long, so you can take one after me," I said, scrubbing my arm a bit.

Harley stood up as I continued to wash my arms, removing his shirt and looking down at me. I avoided his stare, figuring he was stripping down to prepare himself for his own bath. I felt a bit rushed now, so I dunked my head into the water, scrubbing out all the foam and bubbles. I rose from the water, finding Harley standing near the ledge of the tub. I looked up at him, and he eyed me in a dark and disturbing way. I was about to say something until I saw that he was unbuckling his belt, and soon, unzipping his long, green pants.

"What are you doing?" I gaped, furrowing my brow. "I'm almost done—be patient!"

"There's no rush, Max," he eased, letting his pants fall from his hips and down to his feet. He stepped out of them, kicking them away before smiling at me enticingly and lifting a single leg in an attempt to step over the tub's ledge.

"_Harley_!" I shouted, my eyes widening. "What are you doing!"

"What does it look like, my dear?" he questioned, making a quick move with his other leg to fully step into the tub. The water level reached the middle of his calves, and he began to sit slowly.

I grabbed his leg, stilling him. "Harley!" I repeated.

Somehow that was all I could say.

Harley snickered cruelly, bending his knees and sitting on them as he allowed his entire self into the tub. I moved as far away as I could, but unfortunately, I was already close to the end wall, and even though the tub was really big, I didn't like sharing it with another person. I began to blush, feeling his arm snake through the water and rub my thigh.

"Ah, see, now _this _is nice," he told me, readjusting his position so that he could extend his arm further, reaching between my legs.

I slapped his hand away instantly. "N-No!" I yelled. "Harley, come on!"

The man brushed off my rejection, and instead, he leaned forward, possessively claiming my mouth and pressing against me passionately. I closed my eyes, feeling his hands grip my shoulders as he dragged himself through the water to lessen the space between us. The heat of the water and the heat of Harley's body stirred something in me, and I felt very, very hot—not only in my entire outer body, but on the inside, too.

Harley made sure I was unable to make anymore movements by wrapping his arms around my body, momentarily breaking our lips apart and grinning at me devilishly. "My sweet, little Maximus," he began in a whisper, "I think we can make this interesting."

My expression flattened, but I let a single arm slide up Harley's side as I narrowed my eyes. "It hurts too much," I told him, referring to the annoying soreness that now, in the soapy water, was a stingy burn.

Harley seemed disappointed, but I was actually glad that he gave this look instead of an unaffected, uncaring one. It meant that he probably was taking my statement into consideration. This, oddly enough, calmed me, once again realizing I had the ability to claim dictation. It almost made me want to deny anything else from happening. But, the heat in my body was still rising even though I knew I didn't feel up to having Harley do what he wanted. That didn't, however, rule out something else, and it slightly irked me that he still had the power to make me desire this not-so-foreign-anymore lust.

Just to make sure Harley knew I wasn't all-out rejecting him, I leaned forward, allowing him to embrace me tightly, which he happily did. I felt the man slip a hand beneath the water again, reaching between my legs and taking hold of my length that was already semi-hard.

I gasped when his fingers encircled it, a firm and knowing grip that felt absolutely astonishing in the heat of the water. I closed my eyes, not bothering to fight and prolong what I knew I would eventually be coaxed into, especially as Harley's hand continued its clever ministrations. Surprisingly, I let out a short moan, one that made Harley chuckle and press his face into my shoulder blade, clamping his mouth around the jutting bone. I turned my head, breathing heavily as my body's weight seemed to float comfortably around the water. Harley's, sloped above mine, scurried downwards, compressing the space between our legs.

When I felt the man thrust against me, both of us somehow grunted with pleasure, but Harley's surge of breath was distinctly different: loud, deep and a lot more lusty. I moistened my lips and used the wall behind me to slide down a little more, desperate for more contact between the two of us. Harley complied, putting his legs on either sides of my hips and mashing our lips urgently. I felt his tongue enter my mouth, the warmth and wetness adding to the heat I felt already. His hand beneath the water moved once more, this time with a grind and pump, making me stutter his name in a cry.

"Oh, yes, Max," Harley urged in an amazingly calm tone as he encompassed my thing and thrust it in his hand. He grated himself against my thigh repeatedly, gripping my right hip with his free hand to deepen the grind.

My back pushed into the water and some of the liquid splashed into my eyes, causing me to shut them tightly and grip the sides of Harley's chest. The man moved me up, letting my body easily float to the side of the tub as he pushed into the empty spot, causing us to switch positions entirely. He was beneath me, but I remained on my back, having his chest pressed against it. I was startled by this change and forced to open my eyes despite the burn of the salt and soap.

"What are you doing?" I breathed as he pulled me closer, letting our shoulders align and our hips rub together.

Harley grinned. "I want to feel that glorious little back of yours against me," he revealed. He used a single arm to snake around my hip, forcing me to float further down. I felt the hardness of his length against my lower back, and it reminded me of last night when he decided to try a new position, one that hindered me from seeing his face.

"I can't see you," I told him, feeling the arm around my stomach move down to take hold of my length again.

"I know," he said, "but don't worry. This will get better, Maximus."

I continued to wonder why he chose such an odd position. But, as I felt his hardness rub against my back and his hand thrust my own, I gasped and my thoughts cleared. His fingers brushed around me excitedly, causing quick spurts of moans and gasps to escape my mouth. Behind me, Harley groaned as he continued to use my back as a firm, solid wall for his length to rub against, over and over.

"Harley…" I muttered, reaching down to my side and behind me, searching for the man's hardness. I took hold of it, copying his technique of enclosing my hand and gently thrusting it up and down my palm.

"Ah! Max!" he exclaimed, his breathing hitched and clumsy.

I lolled my head back, leaning against his shoulder. To the side, I was able to see his face, his neck craned as his eyes were shut to concentrate on the feeling of my hand moving his thing the same way he insisted on moving mine. Together, we continued thrusting each other, and the feeling of his hard, hot self around my hand made me realize how much cooler the water had become.

I writhed in pleasure, gasping continuously and letting my knees flatten throughout the water, extending towards the other side of the tub. Harley's head turned, stamping messy, fervent kisses along the side of my face. Suddenly, just as I felt Harley's hips thrust upwards, his hand tightened just a bit, stroking me in a much more heated frenzy, my length rubbing in his palm before my muscles constricted tensely. I let my mouth fall open, emitting a shaky, completed moan as I let out my release into Harley's hand and into the water. Not even a second later, Harley came, too, and I felt his release between my fingers, warm in contrast to the lifeless temperature of the water.

I collapsed most of my weight back onto Harley and moved my hand, letting it stay beside me. Harley's, however, slunk up around my mid-stomach as he pulled me close against his chest. I turned my head, looking at me as best I could. The man's lips twisted into a pleasant smile, and I craned my neck to reach for a kiss. Lips collided, and Harley deepened it by opening his mouth and urging my tongue inside. I shut my eyes and turned my body just a bit, having our chests half-fused.

When I reached behind his head, pushing him closer, I realized his hair wasn't fully wet, having never dunked himself completely underwater. I smiled after the kiss, and the man ran his fingers through my damp, but slightly dry, strains of hair.

"I'm tired," I said blandly.

Harley sucked in his lower lip, appearing nonchalant. He prodded my nose amusingly, noting, "It's been a long day, my love."

"I think I want to go to bed now." I shook some of my bangs out of my face, then began moving away from his embrace.

Harley set me loose, even allowing me to stand up, much to my surprise. I looked back at him as I stepped over the ledge of the tub, and he still appeared to be catching his breath as he had a very whimsical and satisfied expression on his face. I grabbed a towel from the tall, wooden shelf on the wall and patted myself to a comfortable dryness. When I lifted my forearm and smelt my skin, I noticed it had the same scent as the bath salt. I wasn't too happy about that.

"Are you okay?" I blurted out, confused by how he put his hands behind his head and relaxed against the tiles.

Harley laughed and gave an assuring nod of the head. He then twisted his shoulder blades as he adjusted himself and smiled coolly. "More than okay, and you know that." He paused but eventually said, "It's just doing _that—_with my perfect little Max—forces me to think quite a bit about how amazing you are. You really are one in a million."

I narrowed my eyes as I blushed at the exaggerated compliment. By now, my ego should've been as big as Harley's with the way he said all these things, but really, it just made me all flustered and uncertain if any it was the truth. I couldn't get myself to say anything back, though, so I finished drying myself off and let the towel drape on the crook of my arms like a shawl. I turned to leave, but Harley stopped me with:

"Ahh, wait just a minute, Maximus." He smiled and continued, "Come here."

I slowly walked over, standing near the ledge and looking down at the man who was ever-so casually relaxed in the tub, seeming so unperceived by what we had just done and how the salt was not the only substance floating around in there. I frowned and was about to remind him of this, but he interrupted me when he grabbed my wrist, urging me to bend down. He craned his neck, and I obliged to the desire of a kiss. It was short, but it was deep and ardent.

When I stood to my full height, Harley puckered his lips and blew me an exaggerated kiss. I blinked a couple of times, wondering what I was supposed to do, but eventually gave up on thinking and turned to leave the bathroom again, taking my clothes with me.

I made a heavy sigh, not exactly feeling refreshed and clean like I normally did after a shower. I wondered if this was because I took a _bath _or because of what I did with Harley. Oddly, however, I didn't feel any of the strange and frustrating confusion I normally did after something sexual with Harley. Even this afternoon, at the Lake of Rage, I had felt a sense of shame and amorality. I felt none now. Instead, I was washed over with satisfaction and content, something I recognized on Harley just a moment ago.

I just stood still for a while, thinking about how Harley's hands managed to feel a million times better than any of my own touches, how much better my mind sometimes felt when our mouths were brilliantly pressed together. Yet, I still couldn't believe it was this Harley, _the _Harley. He was capable of making me feel this incredible lust when years ago, it had been the exact opposite: anger, hate, disapproval. This man had enriched my days with a different sense of adventure and experience. I was so sincerely happy to have him around, no matter who he was to May in the past.

Startlingly, I felt a pair of hands grip around my waist. I jumped and turned, seeing Harley standing there with a smirk. He was remained naked and dripping with water, but still only half of his hair was damp. He took the towel that hung from my hands, using it to lazily dry himself off. Afterwards, he pulled me close to him, pressing my head against his chest gently.

When the short embrace ended, the man walked around the side of the bed, pulling the sheets out from their neatly made positions and fluffing the pillows. I made my way to the other side, crawling into it tiredly. My body felt too hot for the thick, full blanket, so I only pulled the thin sheet over my body. After switching off the lights in the room, Harley crawled in, too, scooting over to close the space between us, as if the bed only had room for one.

"Um… Goodnight, Harley," I quietly voiced, feeling his arm wrap around my stomach.

"Goodnight to you, Maximus," he whispered back.

Comfortingly warm against Harley's body and dramatically silent in the small room, I realized it had been quite a few days since I went to bed with any clothes. Even now, the two of us were both unclothed beneath the sheets, and for whatever reason, like everything else with Harley at the moment, it really didn't bother me one bit.

**End of Part Six**


	7. Part Seven

**Part Seven**

_-Max-_

Harley and I had been walking for several hours. Still harshly bright, I felt like I should have been in bed and that it was too early in the morning. I was actually tired, and, the funny thing was, I went to bed relatively early last night. It hadn't been like the night before last, where Harley and I had been up too late. I was curious as to how Harley was holding up with this, as I knew he wasn't an early bird, nor one that was regularly overexerting himself.

I was holding my PokéNav, making sure we were constantly staying on the right routes. Thankfully, however, we were making good time. We weren't halfway there or anything, but considering we had only been walking for a few hours, we had gotten pretty far away from Mahogany Town. I knew Harley was catching on to having to spend a night outside, but he surprisingly hadn't said a word about it. Even after spending so many nights at a hotel with him, I wasn't dreading it, because sleeping in the wilderness was fun and exciting—especially in an area like this, which was lush with shockingly colorful trees, nice, clean dirt paths, and stylishly swayed grass.

This morning hadn't been that different from the previous ones. I had woken up before Harley, though he awakened only a few minutes later. Like usual, he tried to hint at staying in bed a bit longer—doing things that weren't in same category as sleeping—but he gave up when I insisted my empty stomach was more important. For the first time, however, I hadn't been 100 percent opposed to the idea, and that revelation was the aspect that scared me out of agreeing. My abnormal willingness to go ahead and do what Harley wanted was very foreign, but I supposed after what we had done last night, there wasn't much left to be afraid of. It was weird because I felt myself more eager for night to arrive, and I wasn't sure if that was because it would include _rest_… or something else.

Sighing, I finally looked to my side, glancing at Harley. He had a half-finished cigarette in his hand, the smoke emitting throughout the air and polluting it with its gray color. We hadn't said a word in about five minutes, so this breaking of the silence was a bit complicated.

The man turned when he noticed my stare. He grinned messily, and said, "What is it?"

"Nothing," I told him with a shrug.

"Maximus, I hate to be a stick in the mud," he then went on, "but my legs are _killing me, _and I feel as if I'm going to faint right here and now."

I figured this was coming sooner or later, so I stopped in compliance. "We can rest," I agreed, and he exhaled some of his cigarette smoke in relief.

Harley walked towards the side of the path, taking a seat on a clean, clear patch of grass. He threw his bag to the side, leaning back on his hands and staring up to the sky. "Fuck, Max, how the hell do you walk this much when you travel?"

I took my time sitting down, but I eventually did, taking a seat adjacent to the man. I shrugged and replied, "I don't know. I never really thought about it."

"You're still a kid—full of energy and whatnot, but you'll start slowing down in a couple of years and all that laziness will start creeping up on you." He grinned and sucked in some smoke with his tightly closed lips.

"I hope not," I commented dully. "And, besides, I get tired! Especially after a whole day of walking and not having a thing to eat!"

"Speaking of which," Harley noted, "we did fail to pack some food."

"Actually," I brightly shouted, "there is a teahouse along one of these routes!" I grabbed my guidebook in my backpack, flipping it open and searching for the page. When I found it, I placed a finger on the section quickly, and read, "Watura Teahouse!"

Harley finished off his cigarette and littered the forest by rudely throwing it beside a tree. Instead of taking the book from me to read, he hovered over my shoulder, staring down at the page. "We'll be on Route 39 soon, right?"

"Yeah, maybe," I responded. "If we're fast, that is."

Harley gave me a sneer, catching onto my hint, but he craned his neck in my direction, moving closer to my face. With his hat on today, there was a smooth, thick shadow casting over his forehead and eyes. Instead of making him appear dark and creepy, it made him look enigmatic, and well, sort of handsome, if that was the right word. I blushed when I thought it, and not wanting him to see the deep redness in my face, I sped up the movement, pressing my lips against his roughly. Harley was thrown back by the force, but was very accepting. He put a hand to the back of my head, urging me closer as he opened his mouth to deepen the liplock.

Having just smoked a cigarette, the tobacco on his tongue was a very prominent taste. I knew I tasted like toothpaste and mouthwash, which probably wasn't all that exotic compared to him. When we broke apart, I licked my lips gently, getting rid of the sudden dryness.

"What do you think I should do for my Appeal, darling?" the man asked, referring to the Contest. I was glad he had mentioned it, meaning that he had every intention of still entering. "I've already decided to use Totodile."

I smiled up at him, still close to his face. "Any special talents Totodile has?" I wondered.

Harley made a musing sound, considering this. "In fact, he does!" he then exclaimed, reaching into his bag and grabbing the crocodile's Pokéball.

My expression flattened a little, thinking back to the type of Appeals Harley used to do. Most of them were dark and scary. I watched the man throw the ball, releasing the small blue Pokémon onto the dirt path. It gave a loud yawn, resembling its owner far too much with its tiredness. It then waddled its way over to Harley, searching for a hug or pat on the head.

Harley picked up the creature, placing it on his lap and petting its head. "My little _Toto, _how do you feel about entering a Contest, huh, hon?" When Totodile cocked its head, seeming confused, Harley continued, saying, "A _Contest, _darling, remember the fun you used to have?"

The change in tone made the Totodile nod and jump off of Harley's lap. It landed on its tip-toes, its crawls digging into the dirt before it leaped up, twisting in the air and shooting out a rough Water Gun directly on the ground. The water's force caused the creature to stay up in the air for a long period of time before it let the attack end and moved over in the air, repeating the tactic once more. The blue crocodile did this several times before tiring out and landing gracefully on its feet, almost appearing to bow to its two-person audience.

"Ahh, bravo!" Harley shouted, clapping happily.

I clapped, too, then turned to Harley. "That was pretty neat. I'm sure if you practice that enough, it would make a really nice Appeal." I smiled at him with assurance. "But, it's sort of different from what I'm used to from you."

Harley snorted and shook his head. "Ah, Max, most of those Appeals were to scare your sister. Though, I must admit, when I realized the judge's saw it as original and scored me better, I did use that style more often." He laughed, placing a hand on my shoulder and pulling me close, like usual.

"Totodile can't be scary," I noted. "He's too cute."

Totodile puffed out its chest, an attempt to look tough and threatening. I laughed, finding the pose cute. Harley then stood up, dusting himself off and looking down at me, an obvious sign of being ready to go. He extended a hand, too, offering it to me kindly. I took it, and the man helped me up from the ground.

"Totodile," Harley said, "you could use some exercise, so you're going to stay out with us, mmkay?"

The Totodile gave an agreeing sound, which came out in the usual friendly snarl. Harley and I began to walk now, and the man possessively placed an arm around me to ensure I was going nowhere, even though I obviously wasn't. His hand massaged against my skin, feeling comforting and warm as we watched through the forest, which was now becoming chilly.

The two of us continued walking, mostly in silence, although it wasn't the awkward sort. As we traveled deeper and deeper into the forest, most of the sky became covered by the tall, towering trees, and the sun eventually was completely blocked. I felt as if it had set already, or that it was about to rain. The cloudy, gray skies from the other day had never produced any raindrops, but I still had an odd feeling about it raining sometime soon.

Harley's arm still tightly gripping me—and never letting up, even for a second—I felt as if the man was testing how long I would put up with him. I had no problem with it, really, but the possessiveness of the touch was discomforting. I honestly didn't want him to be doing this just because he felt like I was going to run ahead and off into Olivine City, never to see him again. I had every intention of staying by his side.

Totodile, on the other hand, was way ahead, frolicking merrily and appearing hyper like Ash's. The movements weren't nearly as chipper and excited, but it was close enough. It made me think about when I had visited Oak's laboratory and first seen Ash's Totodile. Ash had _so many _Pokémon—it made me fear that I'd never be able to compete with him. I had never actually battled Ash despite his promise, but he was still holding it. I was glad though, because Ash was the only person I had ever been too nervous to battle—too nervous, in fact, that I put off the challenge completely until I felt I had trained well enough to compete with him. I wasn't sure when that would be, but I was working towards it, and I knew battling Ash would prove to be one of the toughest challenges I ever faced.

"What are you thinking about?"

I looked over at Harley, who was staring at me curiously. I figured I had a very apparent dazed expression on my face, seeming very distant and lost. The man's arm tightened in a nudge, urging me to answer. I blushed when his other hand reached out and combed through my hair, rubbing my chin fondly.

"Nothing, really," I answered with a shrug.

"Your sister?" he wondered blandly, an obvious distaste for the subject.

"No," I told him honestly. "I haven't even thought about her all day, actually."

"Good to hear!" he shouted happily.

"Hey, I still intend to makeup with her, just to let you know!" I defended. "So, you hating her is useless."

"How so? Because, I'd love to know what you intend on telling her about _toi _and _moi._"

I bit my lip, not ready to answer that_. _I had thought about May finding out more than enough times, but actually _telling her_ about it scared the living daylights out of me. If I wasn't able to tell Kenny, or Dad, or _anyone_ then I surely couldn't say anything to May: my sister, the person I once considered my best friend and idol. Her reaction would be unthinkable, but I knew she would be horrified.

Eventually, I was able to stammer, "I don't think that's first on my list to discuss with her."

"Is it anywhere on your list?" the man asked, rubbing his hand up and down my upper-arm.

"I, um," I stuttered some more, unsure. "I don't know. I mean, it's not really her business. I never expected her to tell me about Drew and her."

Harley made a dismissing hiss at my comment. "Ah, but I would _love _to see her reaction. Don't you think it'd be something to go down in history?"

"No!" I cried. "She'd be shocked, disgusted, confused—everything! I don't want to put her through that!"

"Because it's _me_?"

"Obviously," I snidely replied. "She's going to assume the worst about our—about _this._" I sighed heavily, leaning to my left so I could rest my head on his side as we walked.

"That's what makes it fun, darling," Harley insisted.

"Well, I don't think so," I muttered. "I want to talk to her about the past, about what happened when she left me. I have no intention of telling her that—"

"—we're fucking?"

I grunted loudly and put my hands in my face as I blushed. "Don't—!" I cut myself off and just continued to be embarrassed. "I don't want her knowing that!"

Harley laughed maniacally. "She's gotta find out sooner or later."

"No," I argued, "_she doesn't._"

"All right, all right," the man complied, but it lacked honesty. "Now, tell me: am I just blind, or do I spot a certain little teahouse up ahead?"

My mood brightened. "Great! I could use something to eat now!" I broke away from his embrace, running ahead and even passing Totodile. When I reached the teahouse, I turned around and faced Harley, waiting for him to catch up with me.

He eventually reached the teahouse, taking his time just to annoy me, I supposed. There was a small wooden bench outside, either a waiting seat or the option to eat and drink outside. It was polluted with obnoxious carvings, mostly names and messages. This teahouse, slightly rickety and very, very small, was obviously non-traditional in every sense of the word, a polar opposite compared to the one I went to in Ecruteak. There wasn't even a door—just a small, gray curtain that blocked the outside from the inside.

"I'm not sure I trust any of the tea here," Harley commented, folding his arms. Totodile was at his feet, close by and obviously just a tinsy bit possessive of his trainer all of the sudden.

"I'm sure everything is fine. But, you know, I'm not really a tea person." I shrugged and was about to walk into the entrance before Harley stopped me, grabbing my arm and wagging a finger at me in disapproval.

"No, no, let _me,_" he said, giving me a smirk. He then guided me to sit on the small bench, and disappeared into the teahouse with Totodile.

As I waited, I took a good look at the cravings on the bench, reading several declarations of love and other weird things. There were even a few phone numbers messily engraved. Baffled, I moved on and took out my PokéNav, starting it up and searching for Route 39. When I located it, I started to map out how many miles we had left before reaching Olivine City. It didn't seem that far away, and I estimated that it would be just a couple of more miles. Apparently, we had gone about three and half today, and although I had walked far more on some days, I thought maybe it would be better to call it quits after another half mile.

After I was done, I put away the device and took out my guidebook, wondering if there was anything interesting in the city. There were a few sections about fishing routes and even some information about cruises that could take you to Cianwood Island. There was only a short paragraph about Jasmine and the Gym, but it mentioned her "star Pokémon," Steelix. I already knew what types she used, so I figured I'd just use Electric against Electric, by using Mareep. I was always thinking about transferring Slugma over, as I felt I might have an extremely difficult time with my other Pokémon on my team.

"Lookie here."

I glanced up, seeing Harley standing there with a small wooden tray of some sort of food. It looked like sishkabobs. The man sat down, making sure to get as close as possible so when he crossed his legs, his left trapped my knee tightly and his side slid against mine. He grinned, offering the tray with two very raised eyebrows.

I reached out, taking one of the things. "Thanks," I said, putting my book away. I took a bite of the sishkabob and watched Harley do the same. I noticed Totodile was nowhere to be found, and I concluded that he returned the creature into its Pokéball.

"The lass indoors said she'd bring out our tea when it was finished brewing," he informed me.

I nodded, then said, "I think we should call it quits for today." I waited for a surprised response, but the man kept chewing away, so I continued, "Maybe after we eat we should set-up, um, _camp._"

"Camp?" Harley echoed. "Oh, yes, and I suppose that means sleeping outdoors and getting attacked by fucking Weedle and Caterpie?"

"I have a sleeping bag, Harley," I reminded him, narrowing my eyes and hoping he wasn't going to suggest just heading off in his own direction. "Um, and… I'll share…"

Harley then laughed, wrapping an arm around me and leaning in to kiss me on the side of the mouth. "It might be cold out here, though," he whispered, gently grazing his teeth along my teeth.

"Okay," I simply said, shrugging a bit and leaning up to kiss him on the mouth fully.

Harley responded instantly, turning his head and scooting even closer to me. He broke the kiss, but still remained close to my face. He whispered, "Nice and cuddly close?"

"If that's what you want," I obliged, feeling his warm breath hit my face.

His hand gripped my thigh in a reassuring, but very suggestive and interesting way, and I felt goose bumps run up and down my body at his second kiss, firm and full on my lips. It was short, but it affected me greatly, and I realized that this was the first time that I was probably thinking about a certain something before Harley had even vocally suggested it. I wasn't even sure if he was aroused, but I was starting to feel so. Of course, I also felt a measly bit pathetic and lame for being so affected by a kiss, but it wasn't just that! It was the way he was touching me, speaking, insinuating things. I mortified myself by realizing how much I hated it wasn't night yet.

"You seem rather acquiescent today," he said, as if he read my very thoughts. "I suppose I should be glad—and, oh, I am!—but might I inquire about _why_?" He pulled away from me just a bit, making enough space between us so he could finish the rest of his scischkabob.

I gave a shrug and bit into the remaining portion of my food, too. "I don't know," I mumbled with a full mouth. I swallowed, and continued, "I'm just in a good mood, I guess."

"Good mood, huh?" the man echoed. "You need more of those, you fucking hormonal thing."

"Here you two are."

Instead of looking at Harley to respond, I looked towards the new voice near the entrance of the teahouse. A young woman stood there, holding a small tray with two cups of tea. She walked before us, setting down the tray next to Harley and smiling brightly. I wasn't really sure, but I felt like she was exaggerating her smile, as if to please Harley in particular. I guessed this was the person Harley dealt with inside.

"Anything else I can get you?" she asked, looking only at Harley.

"We're fine," Harley assured, dismissing her with a grin.

The lady walked away, but purposely turned right before she reentered the building, giving one, final smile. I narrowed my eyes, knowing from experience with Harley what those particular beams meant. Either Harley didn't notice, or he didn't care at all, which was more logical. I still felt a bit uncomfortable with the situation though, because I felt so out of the picture, like I didn't belong because of my age.

Harley picked up one of the cups of tea and handed it over to me. He took his own, sipping it gently. "Mmm, quite delicious!" he exclaimed happily.

I blew the steam away before taking a sip of my own. It was green tea, and it did taste fabulous: not too strong, not to weak—just _perfect._ I sipped some more, then decided to say something about the woman. "You know," I began, "that lady was sort of… um, well, being obvious."

"Obvious?"

Harley had to be playing dumb—I knew that much—but instead of getting annoyed about it, I just went on, telling him, "Yeah, she was obviously, um, _into _you."

Harley laughed rudely. "Yes, I noticed when I went in there. Too bad I'd rather _die._"

I furrowed my brow. I knew Harley had never been with a woman, but I found it surprising he would say that something to that extent. "Really, huh?" I wondered. "You're not even… _curious_?"

"Curious about _what_?" he questioned rhetorically, and he was completely serious. "I know I don't like it, so why should I bother?"

It was a good point, but I wasn't sure why he seemed so disgusted by it. It was admittedly different than being with a man, but actually, the more I thought about it, the more I wasn't sure I wanted to be with a girl either. Especially after having been with Harley. With Harley it seemed so whole and earnest, and I couldn't imagine what else there was to sex, albeit something less fulfilling. But, the idea of being with a girl didn't disgust me. But, I wasn't completely _curious _either. I was just sort of unaffected by it, as if it didn't matter if I went through or not.

"I admire that," I admitted to Harley. "I mean, I admire that you have such a firm understanding of who you are. I'm still trying to figure out who _I am._" I sipped my tea, avoiding looking at the man.

"You'll figure out everything one day, my little Maximus," he guaranteed. "In the meantime, enjoy yourself, eh? You know what they say: if you got one foot in yesterday and one foot in tomorrow, you'll fuck up today."

"I don't think that's _quite _how it goes," I argued, rolling my eyes in half-amusement, half-annoyance. As I had my eyes down for a moment, I caught a glance at the cravings on the bench again.

Harley looked down at where my eyes were, for the first time seeming to notice all of the markings. He scoffed and pointed at two names in an oddly shaped heart, declaring, "How much do you want to bet these two have long forgotten each other?"

I shrugged and returned to drinking my tea until I felt Harley's body move about, grabbing his bag from the side and digging through it. It took a while for him to fetch what he wanted, but he revealed it instantly, displaying the red-handled pocket knife in his hand. He flipped the weapon open, stabbing into the space between us and onto the chipping, wood bench.

"What are you doing! Stop!" I commanded, taking hold of his wrist to stop him from defacing the bench. "It has enough garbage written all over it!"

"Not from yours truly," the man stated. He licked his lips, moving forward and kissing me quickly before returning to moving the knife through the wood.

I watched him, his hand moving up and down, right and left as he dug the knife through it continuously. He finished with his name, written horribly messy, but then kept going, and I realized quite quickly that he was writing my name, too—and had indeed included a prominent plus sign between the titles. He finished, flipping the knife shut and smiling at me in success and fulfillment.

I blinked. "Harley…" I gaped, furrowing my brow.

The man's grin extended. "Oh, goodness—you're right! What was I thinking?"

Before I had a chance to question what he meant, he reopened the knife and finished off the message, adding the specific _–imus _to my name. My expression flattened, and both of us knew that was certainly _not _what I had meant when I called out his name in uncertainty. Nonetheless, I stared down at the craving, comparing it to the other dozens of couples' names. The only difference, to be quite honest, was that there was no heart surrounding ours, and I had to admit I was sort of hurt.

"What do you think now?" he wondered.

"Nice sentiment," I noted, and I managed to give a goofy smile despite the discontent I felt for the absence of a more romantic symbol.

"Sentiment?" Harley repeated. "Oh, no, Max, this here is _graffiti._"

I bit my bottom lip. "Graffiti…" I mused, knowing this labeling was his way of claiming his efforts weren't anything more than a silly rebellious gesture as opposed to something romantic and meaningful.

It was sort of odd, too, because Harley never made an attempt to hide his affection. I was boggled. As confusing as it was, did his denial of its significance mean he didn't want me to know how much I actually meant to him…? Or, was he being painfully honest with me, admitting that this sentiment meant nothing besides a silly defacement of property? But, if the latter was true, why didn't he choose to write something else instead of our names _together_?

"Are you ready to go?" he wondered.

"Yeah," I answered immediately. I gulped the rest of my tea, setting it down on the empty tray and getting up.

As if on cue, the lady worker came back outside. "Oh, are you leaving?" she asked, disappointment dripping in her voice.

"I'm afraid so," Harley told her, and he gathered some money and handed it to her. "I hope you have a nice day, Miss."

The lady blushed—and it was so deep and _red _that I wondered if my blushes were just as obvious—and gathered up the two trays and two cups of tea into her arms. "You two have a nice day as well," she replied, not even noticing the latest message on the bench.

Harley scoffed, noticing the same thing I did. He said nothing vocally though, and just dusted off possible crumbs on his clothing and gestured for us to begin walking. "All rested?" he wondered.

"_You're _the one that needed the rest," I told him. "But, yeah, I suppose."

"Good to know," he said. "Still wanting to call it quits for the day?"

I figured this question was more of a hint than anything else, but it was a reminder that it would be a good idea to just relax for the rest of the day, after having walked so many miles. When I had checked my PokéNav, I noticed an area that looked like a reasonable place to spend the night. It wasn't too far away either.

"Yeah, and there should be a nice place to sleep somewhere up ahead," I explained quickly.

Sure enough, it didn't take long to actually get to the area I was talking about. It was a nice, clean clearing in the forest, where the grass was flattened from the continual use of tents being set-up from frequent travelers. Trees were still spread out amongst the area, making it a cozy and comforting place to rest. I just hoped that Harley and I would be the only ones passing by on this particular night, and not because I was expecting anything perverted, but because I didn't want to deal with other people being around just for the normal, everyday reasons of discomfort.

Harley laughed at the sight of this pathetic little "campground," and just dropped his bag in the middle of the area. He scuffed his shoe around the flat, discolored grass and looked up at me with a grin. I followed him, watching as he did some sort of fancy turn and held up his arms high.

"What are you doing?" I asked, confused by his movements.

"Just trying to figure out what I can do for my Appeal," he told me. "I don't want to be _too _flashy, like a certain someone I know, who happens to be related to you, but really is nothing like my Maximus at all." He did a simple strut away from me, half-musing what more he could do with his Appeal.

"So, you're not going to do something _dark_?" I wondered.

"Nah, there's no one I need to scare," he admitted. The man practiced a bow and then turned to smile at me. "I only have someone to impress."

I blushed despite not wanting to, but busied myself by sitting on the grass and taking out my tightly wrapped sleeping bag from my backpack. When Harley saw what I was doing, he leaned onto his knees next to me, and made an exclaiming gasp at the sight of me unfurling it.

"That looks a bit more roomy than I was hoping for," he commented. "I hope that doesn't mean you've shared this thing with others."

"Of course not!" I shouted, spreading out the bag across the grass. "I've never even shared a sleeping bag with May."

Harley grunted in annoyance, mumbling, "Though, I assume you must've slept in the same bed, as most siblings tend to at some point or another."

"Yeah," I nodded along. "You know, when I was younger—like five or six—I never liked sleeping alone. I used to try and get May to agree to me sleeping in her bed. I outgrew it eventually, but for a long time, I never slept in my own bed."

"Ah, see? Practicing your faunletism when you were young!" He grinned.

I knew something along the lines of this comment was coming, so I didn't bother getting angry about it. But, I wasn't really sure why I chose to reveal that at all. I supposed sharing a sleeping bag with Harley reminded me more of an innocent act of just wanting comfort and human contact as a child with May, but in reality, it was totally different. Sleeping in the same bed with May had always been so casual and natural, but I had always taken note of some of the more bizarre aspects of it. The two of us had never allowed space between our bodies, instead just getting as close as possible. We also had a tendency to face each other, and still remain that way when we awoke. I remember some mornings, May would kiss me good morning, and only now did I really consider that to be odd. From my memory, her lips had been very different than Harley's: moistened, delicate, and a different kind of _soft. _

With Harley still close by, I decided I wanted some sort of comparison, so I craned my neck, pressing my lips onto his. I let it last a while, and I think I surprised Harley by my sudden forwardness. He did indeed have a questionable look on his face when we broke apart, but I don't think he was too bothered by my affection since I knew he liked it.

I undeniably enjoyed the way Harley's lips felt. They were so similar to mine, and the frankness in our kisses made things so much more comforting. I could never imagine a man kissing a woman the same way Harley kissed me. Our liplocks seemed too rough and quick compared to anything else I had seen. I suddenly became very embarrassed though, realizing I was comparing Harley's kisses to my sister's. If he had known that, I'm sure he would've been disgusted and angry—the same way May would be if she ever actually discovered what had developed between Harley and I.

Harley moved to sit on the sleeping bag, lying back on it and staring up at the sky. "_Fuck, _I'm exhausted," he groaned, taking off his hat and throwing it aside. "I can't wait until we get to Olivine City, and I can remember what it feels like to be among a population."

"We've barely been away from Mahogany Town for a few hours," I reminded him snidely. "I'm surprised you're even bothered by this. You're so anti-social."

"I'm not anti-social," he argued. "I mean, not in the traditional way. I don't like interacting with people, but it's comforting to know they are around. I'm not one of those old ladies with the intention of locking myself away in a log cabin."

I shrugged, not seeing the difference. "Anyway," I said, changing the subject, "if you still want to work on your Appeal, maybe we should just battle to prepare for the Contest."

"And to prepare you for your little Gym rendezvous?" the man inquired. Before he waited for an answer, he nodded, and agreed, "Sure, but don't be too, too angry if I beat you again."

"Just don't use any cheap attacks," I grunted, standing up.

"That goes for you, too, Maximus," he told me, reaching over and grabbing a Pokéball from his bag, and I knew it was Totodile's.

I chose Mareep's Pokéball. Even though it was a pretty obvious choice against a Water-type, I was doing this more for the benefit it would give Mareep in my battle against Jasmine. Harley and I spread out on the beaten grass, making enough room for our Pokémon to battle. I released Mareep first, letting the creature stand before me. Harley soon threw his Pokéball, and sure enough, it was indeed Totodile that came out.

"Don't think you can scare me with your little Electric wool thing," Harley called out, a distinct mockery in his tone.

I actually couldn't help but smile at his statement. It wasn't malicious and cruel like his conversations with May had played out, and I enjoyed that his attitude was the result of a confident, competitive spirit.

I extended my arm in preparation, shouting out, "Mareep, Thundershock!"

"_Bite_, Totodile!"

Totodile was quick, jumping up and already starting to dodge the attack. Mareep's wool thickened with static and her feet scuffed at the ground before it released the lightening straight onto Totodile's body. Totodile's hops stopped as he took the attack, its body shaking momentarily before he recovered. The crocodile rushed over to Mareep, sinking his long, sturdy teeth right into Mareep's body.

"Tackle!" I commanded.

Mareep shook the bite away by butting its head into Totodile's side, then running past the creature to make a trotting rush back over once enough room was between the two. But, before Mareep had the chance, Harley shouted:

"Scary Face, then Slash!"

Totodile's brow lowered and a deep shadow cast over his eyes, creating a spooky, dark grimace in Mareep's direction. This caused her to stop right in her tracks, startled by the frightening look. Frozen and unwilling to take a step forward, Totodile made the second move, leaping towards Mareep and slashing its claws back and forth against her skin.

"Mareep, _Iron Tail_!"

Struggling to get away from Totodile's scratching claws, Mareep simply swung her short tail directly into the crocodile's cheek, sending him flying backwards, near Harley's feet.

Harley put a hand over his mouth in a sincere gasp, but tightened his fist and growled lowly. "Totodile, use Ice Beam and hurry!"

Ice Beam? I was taken back by this command, unaware that such a small and unevolved Pokémon knew this sort of attack. It was naïve of me, of course, because I knew several Pokémon, whose size and evolutionary stage never stopped them from being an extraordinary opponent. My puzzled thoughts clouded my consciousness, and Totodile's chest puffed out as he prepared the beam of ice to head in Mareep's direction.

"_Thunder_!" I called out, and I bit my lip hard as my Pokémon prepared its attack, very much behind Totodile's building up of the ice beam.

Mareep's wool was puffed and full of static electricity, and she hunched her back as she threw the attack towards Totodile. Unfortunately, Totodile's attack was right on the mark, the ice flying in Mareep's direction and slamming into the creature. It cut off Mareep's attack, not even giving it the chance to hit Totodile. Mareep fell to her side, out of energy and suffering in a struggling ache.

"Mareep, you can do it—get up and use Thunder!"

"Use Bite again!" Harley ordered.

Totodile waddled at a quick pace, and with Mareep still shaking on its feet as he managed to stand, the crocodile sunk its teeth into the woolie neck. Static flew from Mareep's body, and a spark landed right on Totodile, sending the blue creature backwards. When he stood, the Big Jaw Pokémon shook, unable to move and flinching at the attempt. He was paralyzed.

"All right!" I shouted. "Mareep, _now, _use Thunder!"

And Mareep, sure its attack would be the final of the battle, put all its energy into the flourishing gust of Thunder. The yellow and white lights beamed from its body, hitting Totodile and causing the creature to fall instantly to the floor, dazed and soon-to-be knocked out. Harley grunted loudly, his teeth clenching as he realized the battle was over.

"Dammit!" he cursed, returning Totodile without a single positive word. He crossed his arms and huffed loudly in disappointment and aggravation.

Mareep's breathing hitched and the creature's leg buckled in a tired need to faint herself. I congratulated my Pokémon and returned it afterward with a pleased smile. This certainly made up for my loss with Harley the last time, although I knew the man was _a lot more _upset than the first time I beat him in Goldenrod City. I wondered if it was because he had actually made a sincere attempt at the battle. I didn't feel necessarily bad, because I knew the man was a sore loser to begin with, but still—I didn't want him upset with me.

"Your Totodile put up a great fight, Harley," I told him, walking over and trying my best to win him over with a soft smile.

The man had a considering gleam in his eye, catching my beaming smirk. He shrugged and rolled his eyes, telling me, "Well, the poor thing hasn't battled in months."

That wasn't much of an excuse, but I was it was a perfect one for Harley to feel better. And, on some level, I think he already did now that he said it. His demeanor rose, and he made another one of his performance gestures, bowing halfway and flashing his teeth in a wide smile. I watched him for a moment, allowing him to live in whatever fantasy he presently occupied, before I pushed him gently, wanting his attention.

"Hey, knock it off," I said. "There's more to your Appeal than what _you _are doing. Totodile still needs to practice that."

Harley did stop, but he glared at me. "You don't have to tell me that!" he argued. "_I'm _the coordinator, and I know not to outshine my Pokémon, _dear._"

"Hmm," I mused. "I'm surprised to hear that, but now that I think about it, you never did. Not like… um, _what's-her-name_… um, Jessie!"

"Jessie?" Harley echoed. "You mean Team Rocket Jessie?"

"Yeah, or _Jesslana_ or whatever that was," I said. Then, after a pause and reminiscence of a certain event, I continued, "I still can't believe you worked with Team Rocket just so May couldn't get her last ribbon." I narrowed my eyes, the memory reminding me how cruel that act was and how _evil _Harley had been.

Harley sensed just how hurt I was by the memory and reached out to touch the side of my face. "I had no intention of hurting _you_. Just May!"

I rolled my eyes. "That's just as bad. She's my sister, and what if Team Rocket managed to mess her up, and she never made it into the Kanto Grand Festival?"

"W_eeee_ll," Harley hummed, "maybe I'm just making assumptions, but if anything that devastating happened, I doubt we'd be here where we are, if you know what I mean." He smiled cooly and then sat down on the sleeping bag again.

"Regardless of whether or not you succeeded, you still did all those cruel things, and I'm still here, so something's not adding up." I made a weird face, confused myself.

I never considered it all, but how on earth did I just dismiss all those things he had done to May? Was it because I had been so upset with her myself that I subconsciously blocked out what Harley had done to her years ago? Or, did I just forgive him because I had begun to like him?

"I guess I'm just irresistible," he said, and the tone was full of assurance that I didn't even want to consider the cosmically strange similarity his statement had with my thoughts.

After the short pause, the man pulled my arm, urging me to sit with him. I fell on my knees, and Harley brought me closer to his body so I sat between his legs. He placed a kiss on the side of my nose and smirked, wanting me to say something.

"I'm not exactly the one who started this whole thing," I muttered. "You're the one who, well, um, _seduced me_ before I even realized a single thing about what I felt."

Harley laughed and shook his head. "No, I'm just the one who _let you _realize what you felt."

I furrowed my brow. What would have happened if he never had made the first move? How long would I have hung around him? Much to my displeasure, I was sure what he said was the truth. Had he _not _done anything to begin with, I probably would've just parted ways with him, and nothing would've ever developed between the two of us.

"I think we should start a fire," I noted, changing the subject. "The sun is starting to set."

"Lucky for little Maximus neither of us will have to break our backs setting a fire!" he happily voiced, digging into his pants pocket and revealing his zippo lighter. "Not very traditional in the camping sense, but who wants to waste their time scratching rocks and sticks together?"

I took hold of the lighter, examining it for the first time since I found it underneath that couch cushion. The golden metal was faded and rusted, but it still appeared so fancy and antique-like that I thought it was neat. I appeared to mean so much to Harley, and I wondered if there was a story behind it, though when I had asked about it initially, he had just stated it was "pretty," and he liked it. I shook the lighter, hearing the fuel inside shake about. The way Harley smoked, I guessed he had replaced the fluid about a dozen times over.

"What?" the man asked, catching onto my curious expression.

"Who gave this to you?" I wondered, turning it over with the hopes of seeing an engraving or something. But, there was nothing.

"No one, really," he stated. "Although, it is an heirloom, but no one _gave it _to me. I just took it when my parents died. I thought it was pretty, and I took up smoking just so I could use it." He smiled with amusement.

I handed him back the lighter. "Weird," I mumbled, getting off Harley's lap. "I'm going to find some twigs and stuff for the fire," I then said, heading back on the path near some of the bushier, big trees with fallen branches.

It felt like forever since I had gathered wood for a fire. I took a variety of different twigs and sticks from the ground before I went back over to where we were staying and kicked around some loose grass to reveal the dry, rough dirt beneath. It looked like someone had already set-up a fire recently, as there were small stones in a shape of a circle surrounding the area. I started arranging the sticks in a proper way, then turned to look over my shoulder at Harley, who was lighting a cigarette as he fully reclined on the large sleeping bag.

The man eventually caught my glance and threw the lighter in my direction. Of course, not expecting this, I didn't catch the metallic item, and I mumbled beneath my breath at this. I lit several twigs on fire, letting the flames hit the rest of the wood eventually as the campfire slowly started to come to life.

I handed the lighter back to Harley, and said, "Too bad we don't have marshmallows."

"Ooh, that would be fun," the man agreed. "Roasting marshmallows with my little Maximus—oh yes, I think I would have enjoyed that!"

I brought over my backpack and sat on the sleeping bag with the man. I dug through it, looking for anything interesting. I took out several things just to be able to see the bottom of the bag, and Harley poked through my miscellaneous stuff, particularly my thin, unused sketchbook. He flipped it open to the first page, which had a few doodles on it and his eyes widened in a beaming excitement.

"Oh, look at this!" he exclaimed, pointing towards a small, rough drawing of Kirlia. "How _cute._"

"It's ugly, Harley—stop making fun of me," I grumbled, still searching for something to amuse myself.

Harley sat up to examine the rest of the pages—which was just two more and the rest were blank—and his smile just seemed to extend more and more. "I noticed this book before, but I didn't know you actually _drew_."

"I try," I said, "but I don't focus on it enough to get better. I once knew his guy—his name was Tracey—and he was like the _best _artist in the world. I couldn't believe how amazing his work was! Ever since then, I sort of aspired to be an artist, too, but it's not looking too bright."

"I think it is," the man noted, his eyes locked on the doodles. He pointed at one of a Ponyta and said, "Especially this one! It's lovely."

I rolled my eyes, not at all convinced. "If you saw Tracey's stuff, you'd say otherwise."

"Now how are you supposed to get better if you criticize yourself so much?" he demanded lowly, snaking an arm around me and rubbing my back. "How about you draw _moi_?" He posed in a ridiculous way, lifting his chin and letting his face glow in the setting sun.

"No thanks," I said, grabbing back the book and setting it on the ground again.

"Why not?" he demanded, insulted.

"_Because_ that would… that would be weird." I blushed at the thought, watching Harley blow out some smoke through his nostrils. I then turned to look at the fire, which was still struggling to fully come to life. I could feel the heat though, and it made my glasses particularly hot, so I took them off, placing them in the front pocket of my backpack and then replacing all the items I had took out.

Harley managed to kick off his boots without sitting up, letting them drop a few feet away. I took off mine, too, and stretched tiredly. I soon felt Harley's palm lay out on my back, sliding up the back of my shirt, and it was obvious what he was hinting at. I looked at him dully, watching as he shrugged off his jacket and rested it on his bag. Before I could say anything, he swooped an arm around me again, guiding me down so our lips could meet.

Cigarette still in his hand, he asked, "Did you know I could blow smoke rings?"

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Smoke rings," he repeated. "Watch." He placed his cigarette between his mouth, inhaling a vast amount. Instead of breathing it into his lungs, he held it in his mouth for a moment and then puffed it out, his lips shaped in an odd circle and his cheeks sucked in deeply. The gray smoke flew into the air, revealing the small shapes of circular rings, before dissipating.

I blinked a couple of times, unsure whether to be impressed or not. It admittedly looked very cool, but I felt as if the odd talent was a bit too weird, seeing as how it was usually another kind of substance folks used when doing that.

"Weird," I just said.

"Wanna try?" he asked, offering the cigarette with a raised eyebrow.

"Eww, no!" I protested, slapping his hand away.

"Fine," the man shrugged, extinguishing the end of cigarette on the ground. He pulled me close afterward, forcing my head to align with his shoulder and rest there comfortably. He rubbed my back for a while before kissing the side of my face, and saying, "So, how's that little ass of yours feeling tonight?"

I beamed red and looked away from him instantly. "Harley!" I grunted, biting my lip.

"What? It was just a question, darling." He chuckled and began messing with my hair with his long, slender fingers. His other hand tapped the bottom of my chin, urging me to look at him again. When I did, he kissed me deeply with an open mouth.

"Yeah, well, don't be so embarrassing," I commented, craning my neck as his mouth began to slide down and onto my shoulder. I could already feel Harley's body heat heightening, and moreover, his pants tighten as his neediness grew. Somehow though, the scenery of the forest and campfire, really turned me off, and I couldn't feel the same desire that Harley felt.

"Something wrong?" he wondered, his hands traveling down my body and to my hips. He held me there, lifting his own hips and making us grind together momentarily.

"I'm not exactly too keen on being so out in the open like this," I admitted to him softly.

"Neither am I," he agreed. "_But, _being so delectable and amazing, I can't help not caring about anything else but having you."

My eyes shut, feeling the man's hands under my shirt again, sliding up the attire and eventually over my head. We kissed between that and the next removal of clothing—his own shirt—and I then felt our chests push together, mine so small and boyish, his so defined and angled. Desire rushed through me at the contact of our hips grinding again, and I gasped, letting my hands drop down his body, tugging at the belt around his pants.

"Your hands, Max…" the man mumbled, dazed, "I fucking love when they're touching me."

I looked up at Harley—our eyes meeting perfectly—and kissed him on the mouth, all the meanwhile, still messing with his belt. When I tore the thing off, I fiddled with his pants, eventually getting them unzipped. The man moaned enthusiastically, letting his head loll back as my hands urged the waist of his pants down, stopping only when Harley's lack of cooperation restrained me from pulling them off.

I looked at Harley again, wondering why he wasn't budging. He grinned sideways, and relaxed his weight back on his two hands. "I want to feel _you _taking off my clothes," he said nonchalantly. "And, I'm not budging one bit," he further refused.

I blinked. "Harley…" I droned flatly. "_Why_?"

"I already told you," he insisted. "So, come on."

The man took my hands, placing them at the fallen waist of his pants. He rose his hips only a _bit _so I would have an easier time sliding off the attire completely, but otherwise, he didn't move. As I moved the fabric down his long, muscular legs, he lolled his head back and exhaled, enjoying the sides of my fingers tracing down his skin. My eyes landed on the man's erection, already so… _hard._ Doubt flooded me at the thought of reaching out to touch him, to try and bring him to that amazing, warm completion with just my hand. So, instead, I moved myself over his body, sitting between his legs again, and pressing my hands against his chest to push up his tank-top.

Now naked and apparently satisfied with my efforts, Harley began removing my shirt, all the meanwhile, bringing me closer to his body so his exposed hardness could rub against my own, covered beneath my clothing. My eyes shut tightly, feeling his hands intentionally scrape my lower hips, tugging and pulling my shorts loose and leaving me in just my underwear.

Harley smiled fondly at the sight and clutched me closer. His hands rubbed up and down my back, eventually slipping into the waistband of my underwear and squeezing me hard. I flinched, unsure, and his traveling hand eventually lessened to a finger, rubbing me just at my entrance. I shivered and gasped, letting my eyes remained closed.

"Still sore?" he asked in a breathy whisper.

"Not really," I answered honestly after I opened my eyes. I looked at him and became very tense, feeling that needy hunger rise in both his body and mind. If he wanted me to relax, he had to, too.

I moved my hands from his shoulders, trailing them down the sides of his arms, and eventually, to his abdomen. My hand shakily reached out, encircling his length, the warmth and hardness of it making me even more nervous. Harley was surprised, and he showed it when he gasped loudly and bucked his hips outward, desperate for more.

"_Fuck, _Max, what's gotten into your crooked little self?" he demanded passionately, rocking his hips back and forth in my hand.

"I thought you wanted to feel my hands…?" I said, half-question.

Harley laughed, a smile forming widely. "Oh, well, _of course, _but I didn't think you'd be so compliant."

"Neither did I," I admitted, narrowing my eyes. It was something about the way he felt beneath _me_, the way he reacted to what I thought were novice and unskilled touches. I was trying my best to remember how Harley had begun with all of this, and so far, I supposed some of it was working.

"Then more, Maximus," he urged, throwing his head back in a grin. He used a hand to push me further down his body, making contact between my hand and his erection even greater.

Nervously, I pursed my lips, but it was at that instant I remembered Harley doing something similar—but, _instead_, pursing his lips around his teeth—before he enveloped my own hardness into his mouth. The thought of doing that to Harley frightened me. I didn't think I could. If it had been too personal for me to experience, it would be ten times more personal to return the favor. And, above all else, I didn't think I could be any good at it.

But, it was too late. Harley caught onto my thoughts and started laughing. He placed a hand behind my neck, gently pushing me down again, but this time, with the intentional destination between his thighs. My entire body shook, and I felt my lust die out a bit as I started to realize not only did he _want me _to do this, he was also completely convinced I would. I didn't know what to do—I was too nervous. But, I remembered, faintly, that he had licked his lips fully before anything else. So, I copied that technique.

"_Ahh, _Max, if you don't get a move on, I'm going to fucking die!" he complained as his head fell back, but this time, not in lusty anticipation.

I closed my eyes, wrapping my hands around his length and moving forward. With Harley lying down, it made the position uncomfortable, but I managed to adjust my neck, pushing closer and taking him in a few inches. His erection felt weird in my mouth—completely different than when I held it in my hands—and as I carefully slid my tongue along it, I felt a vibration in the man's body, a soft moan that escaped his lips and shook his whole self.

I thought back to when Harley did this, recalling the thrusts of the neck and the ministrations of the fingers. I imitated this combination, taking in his hardness as deep as I could and massaging my fingertips against the warm, trail of saliva I left. I repeated this several times, pumping it in and out. Harley's hand rested behind my neck again, coaxing me to still continue.

"_Max, _you delightful little faunlet!" he beamed, his hips rising to my thrusts. The muscles in his thighs constricted, and I felt his breathing pitch considerably.

Driving his erection deeper into my mouth this time, I heard him grunt loudly, and remembering how he hollowed his cheeks, I allowed the velvety wetness of my mouth to tightly compress his length. Feeling so warm and solid, I couldn't help but feel my arousal return, amazed by how good _I _felt doing this for Harley. Hearing his moans, hearing my name from his lips, feeling his muscles cramp, feeling sweat form on his legs—I became ecstatic and eager. I plunged forward, feeling the very tip of his length push against the back of my throat right before a yell from the man, one that was followed by a powerful tightness of his muscles and a surprising completion straight into my mouth.

Not expecting such a strong impact in my mouth, I gagged, letting the softening length drop from my mouth as I tried to clear my throat. Harley lied there, breathing heavily as he fell straight on his back. I coughed several more times, not letting my lips meet as I struggled to allow myself to swallow what was in my mouth. When I did, I gagged more, closing my eyes and repeating the gulping motion as if it would send the taste out of my mouth.

"_Max_," the man panted, a sloppy smirk basically _polluting _his face with a selfish bit of satisfaction. "Goddamn!"

Despite the weird taste in my mouth, I managed to smile. His gratification was only for himself, but I felt an ultimate sense of pride, knowing I had driven him to completion the same way he did for the first time in Goldenrod City. And, I knew it couldn't have been the best "favor" he had been given—he had a tendency to say when experiences were grand—but I knew I had done quite all right for my first time. And, oddly, I was determined to get better… which meant this wasn't exactly the first and last time.

Harley clutched his hand around my wrist, pulling me upward so I straddled his lap again. He fused our chests and lips, slipping his tongue into my mouth and exploring it deeply. He laughed lowly even as our mouths stayed mashed together, and I brought a hand to the back of his head, feeling through his long, soft hair.

"Mm," the man mused, parting our lips, "I taste fucking _good_."

I rolled my eyes, not exactly agreeing. "I'm sorry if I wasn't…" I trailed off, shrugging, "you know, an expert."

"Don't you worry!" the man radiated. "It was as if my cock belonged right into that mouth of yours."

I blushed heavily but allowed his mouth to travel down my neck, sucking at it fervently. "I tried to think about when you did it to me the first time," I revealed, feeling the man's palm glide downward, patting my thigh and pushing my thighs apart so he could take hold of my hardness.

Harley grinned with a flash of his teeth. "Ah, so you _were _paying attention even way back then!" He kissed me directly on the lips, and added, "I knew it all along."

I smiled back, allowing a grind in our bodies created by Harley beneath me. I groaned very softly, his arousal reforming as we kissed wantonly. His hands then set on my hips, pushing upwards before he brought me close to his chest, rolling us both over so he mounted over me. The coldness of the fleece sleeping bag startled me, but now facing the other way, I noticed the sparkling yellow and red fire burning excitedly, looking lovely in dusky light.

Harley gently pressed his weight down onto me, stamping full kisses down my shoulders and arms. He straightened his back, hooking an arm under the crook of my leg and sliding me forward to him. This felt like it was going a lot faster than normal, and it was either because it _was _or because I felt much more relaxed this time.

Needy myself, I turned his face to align with mine, looking at him fully before Harley wet his hand abundantly, bringing it back behind me, away from my sight. He picked up where he left off before, letting a finger press into my body—slowly at first, but struggling to stay that way—before adding more moisture. Feeling the digit enter me, my back jerked, but despite the intruding pressure, I pushed down onto it, desperate for more. I moaned with more volume, squirming more and more as his other hand began stroking my length.

"Seems like it's been a lifetime since I started wishing for us to fuck like this," he growled, rubbing our bodies together with a heated force.

I breathed out heavily, adjusting my back so I could lie down. Harley removed his finger timidly, but settled his weight on his knees and lifted my legs further up with his arms. I rose my hips as I felt his open-palmed hand move against my inner thigh, teasing me immensely. I grunted to get his attention, wanting so badly to feel that odd pressure in my body, to have him _in my body_ the way I knew I could never let another person.

Harley wet his hand again, rubbing himself with his saliva half for preparation, half for a greedy pleasure. Afterwards, he moved forward, spreading my legs apart and pushing the tip of his length against my entrance. I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for the strain. It began, slowly, the man taking some sort of precaution before he enveloped his entire hardness into my body.

"H-Harley…" I breathed, my mouth falling open.

The man looked down at me, clutching his arms tighter around my thighs as he kept them lifted. He smirked, and assured, "It's all right, Maximus. Just relax." He shook with a seizure-like pleasure and leaned his body over me more, urging my legs to wrap around his hips so he was directly above me.

"Mmph, _Harley,_" I moaned, this time with yearning as his length moved.

"Max!" the man yelled, his hips winding and his erection pushing out of my body before thrusting fully back into me. He gasped, throwing his head back, and continuing, "You are so amazing, darling."

I turned away in a blush, knowing his babble was half-conscious. But, despite it, it was nice to hear. I rose my hips into his driving motions, clenching my muscles to add to that tightening pressure. And, beginning to writhe with an increase of speed, Harley leaned his chin on my shoulder, pulling me closer as he thrust. I gave a gentle cry of delight, and I felt a vibration on my shoulder as the man moaned, too, still sucking at the skin there.

Still so compressed against his body, my own erection rubbed onto his stomach, and the feeling caused Harley's hand to wrap around it. He pumped the length into an enclosed and heated palm, still managing to keep the pace going with his own thrusting into me over and over. With a few more twists of his hips, I arched my back, biting my lip painfully as I grunted and let out my release. Harley came just after—if not, simultaneously—and instead of shouting my name, his teeth clamped onto the jutting bone of my shoulder, digging deep and rough as he grunted.

Drained, his weight automatically collapsed, but he was mindful enough to stop from completely falling down on me. He stayed where he was at, still inside me, and caught his breath, smiling messily. And, just as the previous times, Harley licked away my release from his palm, his tongue flicking between every finger. I had no idea how he could just lick all of it off, not even seeming to be bothered by the taste—just the opposite, in fact. Afterward, his fingers rubbed where he bit me, and just gave a goofy shrug, no explanation why he had sunk his teeth into my skin.

I panted beneath him, letting my legs drop to his sides, but keeping my arms wrapped around him tightly. "That _really_ hurt," I complained, twisting my shoulder in discomfort.

Harley leaned down and kissed the bite mark. "Sorry, Maximus," he apologized. "I just got excited." He caught his breath fully and removed himself from on top of me, pulling out of my body and causing me to grunt uncomfortably.

"So, you _bit _me?" I questioned, furrowing my brow and turning my body to face him. "That makes no sense."

Harley laughed as he relaxed on his back. His stare lingered around the now sunless surroundings, eventually setting on the blazing fire, which I heard crackling and snapping as the wood broke in the flames. It was silent between us for the time being, but Harley squirmed against the fleece sleeping bag, making his way underneath it and coaxing me to do the same with a tug of his hand. I went underneath, too, and I vaguely noted how weird it was to have done such an act on top of the sleeping bag _my father _had given me.

Harley pressed his face into my neck and wrapped his arms around me. "Let me do it again." He ran a finger against the bottom of my neck. "_Right here._"

"Harley…?" I called out, confused. I was completely dumbfounded by his attitude, which had come out of nowhere. But, somehow, the pain from my shoulder already subsided and what was left was only a throbbing tap that felt faintly _odd. _It sent something down my body, a small static of thrill.

The man's eyes shifted up to look at my face, seeing I was staring back at him and not refusing. He grinned and his teeth showed in a feline way before he sunk them into my skin again, starting very slowly. He moaned into my flesh, and the warmth breathing down onto me caused me to emit a moan. When he bit harder, even rubbing my skin between his teeth, I jumped, a surge of pain forming.

"_Oww, _Harley!" I cried, pushing him away.

But, Harley did not stop. He kept his mouth there, pulling at the flesh with his sharp, solid teeth. "I love the way your skin feels," he muttered, half-understandable. He finally stopped though, and smiled through his next words: "Want to bite me?"

I flushed and rubbed the area where his teeth had been planted. Harley urged my hand away and massaged it himself with his palm. This time, the bite hurt immensely, and I couldn't imagine doing the same to Harley. But, he was extending his arm, offering his forearm to me happily.

"Come on," he urged.

"Why, Harley?" I asked.

"Because it feels good," he stated. "A different kind of good."

"I don't want to," I said, turning away from his arm.

Harley gave a flat expression, but it disappeared quickly and he smiled. "All right then," he voiced, kissing the newest bite in what was supposed to be a sweet way. "But, I think you like it, too."

"Like _what_? Pain? Are you _sick, _Harley?"

The man laughed and kissed me on the mouth. "I'd like to think not, but _who knows._"

I rubbed my shoulder again. "It feels funny now," I admitted. "It feels like it—"

"—needs to be licked?" he completed for me, grinning.

"_No, _I was going to say that it feels like it's going to bleed." I jutted my shoulder out, trying to get a look at the bite. "God, Harley, why did you do that?"

"There are certain things, Max, that I like," he revealed smoothly, "and this happens to be one of them."

I gave an unsure look, but figured since Harley was no longer trying to get me to bite him—or bite me—that it was better to drop the conversation. I looked at my shoulder one more time, and to comfort me, Harley kissed it, being sure to lap his tongue across my skin the way he had hinted at before. The sensitive skin tingled beneath his wet tongue, and again, I felt that shiver of delight, which I did not want to admit. What was he, a vampire? Biting other people was certainly not normal, and his desire to _be bit _seemed even stranger.

"Good night, darling," he whispered in a slur, pulling me against his chest to rest.

Still slightly boggled, I bid a good night anyway, but continued to wonder why such a weird sting of pain managed to leave a curious wave of thought in my mind.

xxxxx

_-Harley-_

Olivine City hadn't changed a goddamn bit. In truth, I had only been once, but it was quite clear nothing had altered, and the fact it had been quite a few years since my first visit only made everything more pathetic. The seaside docks, the merchant ships, the buoys, the Wingull, the lighthouse—it was all there, and it was all exactly the same. And yet, Max was excited out of his mind, never having been here and so oblivious to the changeless surroundings.

"It's so big here!" the boy exclaimed, looking off to the lighthouse in the distance. "I can't believe we're here already!" He smiled brightly, turning to look at me and catching my bemused expression.

Instead of waiting for him to ask what was wrong, I told him right away, explaining, "Somehow, even though I missed a lot when I was first here, I feel as if I have nothing to see this time around."

Max continued smiling anyway. "Where's the Gym?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I can't remember if it's in the lighthouse or somewhere else," I answered. "But, anyway, Max, you don't want to battle the Gym Leader right away, now do you?"

"Of course I do," the boy argued. "It's only one o'clock—I don't think that's late!"

It sure felt late though! I groaned tiredly, running my hand through my hair and taking off my hat. Maximus and I had woken up late, around nine o'clock despite the fact we really hadn't spent the entire night shagging like I wanted. But, _oh, _last night was amazing. First, Max had sucked my cock—and fucking hell, for a boy who literally had no experience he sure seemed to know what he was doing—and then, _then _we fucked and I had bitten his sweet, supple skin. Poor Max hadn't expected the latter and refused to return the painfully fun favor, but it was still great. Who _didn't _like to have their skin sunken into?

This morning, when we had awoken, I had taken a look at the bruise I left him. The first bite was lightly colored, looking slightly green from the thrashing nip; the second, which had been a lot harder, was a sickly yellow color. If I had not known what they were from, I would assume the boy had been pounded on, but having inflicted them myself, I knew better, and it brought a thrill to my mind and body to recall how it felt to bite him. I was sure, however, Max was not pleased with the physical evidence, and I knew he was glad the collar of his shirt completely blocked the sight. Even now, he kept rubbing his shoulder, irritated by the sting.

I myself wished to be feeling the same irritation. Being bitten was one of the most erotic, playful additions to the already glorious act of shagging. It hurt, and there was no denying that, but it was the pain and the wavy aftershock of throbs and aches that made it akin to the afterglow of a powerful, amazing orgasm. Very few people understood that, but I intended to make my darling realize it quite soon. I hated to think I was hurting him, but thinking about him writhing beneath me in a confusing twist of pain and pleasure was something I wanted. _Especially _with Maximus.

Walking by Max, I patted him firmly on the shoulder, intentionally hitting his bruised skin. He yelped, just as I suspected he would, and quickly shouted, "Will you stop doing that!"

I laughed cruelly, giving him a very suggestive look. "All right, Max," I agreed, "but we really should get something to eat."

Max ignored me, insisting, "I want to battle Jasmine right away." He folded his arms, looking like an egotistical little prick. "It's my choice, and I think I am ready."

"Hmm, you do? Because, that would make _three _badges in less than two weeks, darling. Your luck has to run out somewhere."

"Luck!" the boy echoed angrily. "Luck is not what made me win at the last two Gyms. I'm strong, that's all." He kept his arms folded the whole time, turning away slightly to further make his point.

"Well, it's true that I've known people to get many badges in a short amount of time," I admitted, "but _still, _even I believe this is a bit much."

The boy shrugged. "It's only really because of _you _that I've managed to get around so quickly. Usually when I'm alone I dawdle in city to city."

"Then I'm good for you, is what you're saying," I concluded, grinning wickedly. I swept an arm around his body, bringing him to my chest. "Excellent to know, as I tend to believe you're good for me. I mean, look at me,"—I gestured to myself and then around the city—"I am going to enter a fucking Contest."

"It's not as if you're doing that _just for me _though," he debated. "You're doing it just in case you win and get to wave a shiny, new ribbon in my face."

I chuckled, putting the top of my wrist over my mouth as I laughed. "True, but if it weren't for you, I would never have bothered." I bent down a tinsy bit, placing a kiss on the top of his head. "And you're _fantastic _for that."

Max managed to smile, and I knew it was mainly because we were alone at the center of the city. Otherwise, he would be blushing and pushing me away in embarrassment. He pushed himself up on his tip-toes, hinting for more contact, and I obliged by moving my lips down to his forehead. His smile extended and he looked up to me cheerily.

"I like being with you, Harley…" the boy whispered, embarrassed. "I mean, I… I know you said it benefits us both, but what I mean is that I really think being with you also makes me, well, um, _happy_." He shrugged and moved away from me, frightened by his own words.

I stopped him from moving away completely, tugging on his arm and bringing him back to lean against my chest. "Don't get all flustered," I coaxed. "After the sort of things we've done together, there shouldn't be anything that makes you red."

Max gave an annoyed look, but it settled. "But, Harley," he said, "do I make _you_ happy?"

My playful look melted into a sincere, whimsical smile. I couldn't help but kneel down to look at Max completely, pushing him further into me and then pressing our lips together passionately. "More than happy," I told him sincerely. "You make me feel downright, absolutely, _utterly_ fan-_fucking_-tastic." I planted another kiss on the boy's lips, then moved my mouth down to his shoulder, kissing it beneath the fabric of his shirt.

"Really?" Max wondered, his eyebrows lifting brightly, but also, in a very uncertain way.

"Yes," I emphasized heavily. "Now, let's go find that Gym." I grabbed the boy's soft little hand, dragging him through the street.

"Wait!" he shouted. "I want to get my Slugma."

"Oh?" I said as we continued walking. "What happened to new region, new team?"

Max sighed, and replied, "Well, I don't currently have any Pokémon, besides Mareep, who will be strong against Jasmine's types." He tugged me back a little, pointing towards where he saw the Pokémon Center. "It's this way."

"I know quite a few people who would disagree with that. Aren't Pokémon more than just types that are strong against another?" I wondered statically, just to tease him.

"In all technicality, Slugma originate from Johto, so he'll fit into my team." He laughed under his breath, knowing his argument was pretty weak and he was breaking his own rules for himself.

We entered the Center, which bustled with tons and tons of trainers and seemed so much busier than any of the Centers we had been to lately. When I turned to look at Max, he had already wandered off to the phones, and I concluded that he had to call his parents to get a Pokémon transferred. Most trainers had to contact a professor, but I guess little Maximus was just special and his parents could afford to keep their children's Pokémon at their house.

I decided to go sit at one of the couches, staring off towards where Max and some others were making phone calls. When his screen came to life, I saw his father there, and oh, did he look mighty handsome: all spruced up early in the morning, finely dressed in a white, pressed shirt, and his posture looking just _excellent _even from the distance. I gave a gushy grin, knowing full well that just a few weeks ago I would be floored by how lovely Norman looked. And well, even though I was still was amazed, it wasn't affecting me the same way. I had Max. I had the _younger, _more _versatile, _more _faunlet-y _offspring of Norman. I was getting hard just thinking about how much better Max was than his father. Besides, fucking his son was a lot more scandalous!

I could tell Max suspected I was watching. He turned around, his eyes locking with mine before he rushed back to looking at the screen and his father. Norman wouldn't be able to see who his son was looking at, but even if he could, it wouldn't matter, as he didn't know me. Imagining Norman finding out didn't make me grin like a vicious bastard though, not the same way I grinned about May's discovery. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew Norman had to be some ignorant fuck, like most fathers. And I knew nothing would hurt Max more than to have his father, who he admired more than anyone, disown him. I'm sure Max wasn't even capable of wrapping his mind around this fact; he'd think his father was better than that.

I saw Max grabbing the Pokéball from the transporting machine, his father already having sent over the Pokémon. After saying goodbye to Norman, he walked back over to me, holding up the ball and smiling happily.

"Slugma's been doing great, my father said," he stated, reaching out to help me stand up. "He also said that Nurse Joy had something for me."

I rose an eyebrow, curious about the last part. "Like _what_?" I wondered, taking his hand and standing.

"I'm sure it has something to do with my birthday," he droned, walking over to the front desk with me following.

"Aww, so daddy sent little Maximus a birthday card," I concluded. "You know, Norman's looking deliciously fine, if you ask me." I grinned, flashing my teeth devilishly.

Max rolled his eyes, but he knew I wasn't being entirely serious with my compliment. I think the boy was far over his suspicions about me using him as a replacement. I could tell a comeback was brewing in his mind, but Nurse Joy walked over to us, cutting off both our thoughts by asking:

"How may I help you?"

"My name's Max," he said to her. "I've been told you have something for me?"

"Oh, yes, I do," she answered, turning around and flipping through a pile of mail. She located a thin, blue envelope, taking it out and handing it over to Max. "This is it."

Max looked at it, and said, "Yeah, it's from my parents." He looked at me flatly. "It's probably some stupid card."

"Thank you, Miss," I said to Nurse Joy for Max, leading the boy away to the exit. "I honestly don't know why you're being so negative, darling."

"So, can we go to the Gym now?" he asked, ignoring me as he stuffed the envelope and his newest Pokéball into his bag.

I leaned my head back, blowing my bangs out of my face. "And I suppose you want me to watch?"

Max gave a sincere glare this time. "Don't make it sound like the end of the world!" he exclaimed. "You don't have to go, if you don't want to. Just _say so._" He folded his arms, pretty pissed off.

"I do have a few errands to run," I told him. "I need to find us a hotel for a few days—after all, the Contest isn't until tomorrow and your birthday isn't for two days. I was thinking the two of us could just relax for a while." I smiled sweetly.

"You want us to stay in town for a while?" the boy asked, furrowing his brow. He was taken back by how I added his birthday to the mix, and despite his rude attitude towards the day, I sensed he was slightly glad I had mentioned it.

"Indeed I do," I replied. "Think about the fun we could have." Half-suggestive, the other half just pure, I smirked at the boy.

"Fine," the boy grunted. "But, if you get done with your _errands _early, I wouldn't mind if you came by the Gym." Max bit his bottom lip and narrowed his eyes.

"Will do," I agreed. "And, Maximus… _Good luck._" I kneeled down—not giving a flying fuck who was watching or if Max cared either—and kissed the boy straight on the lips, making sure he really _felt _it: tongue, teeth, lips.

The boy froze, becoming stiff and nervous, before backing away carefully, and turning in every direction possible to check for stares. He looked back to me, finally, seeming calm, and then a blush developed on his face. "Oh… um, _thanks._" He smiled fully.

I patted his head. "I mean it, darling," I assured. "_Win._ If you don't, I'm not touching you for a week."

"I doubt you could live up to that threat," the boy droned, but he honestly wasn't convinced.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Maybe you're right, but I still want you to win." I kissed him a final time—right on the top of his head—and then exited the Pokémon Center. Recalling where my previous visit and the hotel I had stayed at then, I automatically began heading towards that direction.

I surely hoped my Maximus would be all right. I hadn't meant to break his heart by not wanting to go to his battle, but I'm sure somewhere he understood my issue. Besides, I wasn't just avoiding the battle just because I was a selfish prick who couldn't afford an hour of his life watching a battle; I had every intention of shopping for an appropriate birthday gift for my little faunlet. Of course, I had no idea where to start shopping, or even what the fuck that boy would want!

At the very end of town, near the seaside, was the hotel I had previously stayed at. It was a large, upscale building, set off far away from other businesses to shine in its own, snobby glory. The spherical driveway looped around the entire front of the building, and the solid marquee looming over the entrance allowed the building to look even _more_ fancy. As I walked, glancing at the various people surrounding the place, I hoped that they would have a room available for more than just one night. This hotel was definitely a tourist hot-spot, and those freaks had undoubtedly crammed themselves into every last room.

I made my way into the building, presenting myself at the receptionist desk happily as I leaned into the counter, folding my arms over it peacefully. "Hello there, Sir," I greeted, suavely smiling at the young man there.

The man stood up and walked over to me. "Good afternoon. Are you looking for a room?"

"For a few nights, actually. _Four _to be exact." I handed over my credit card to the man already, not even waiting for an answer on what was available.

Typing away at the computer, the man looked back up to me after a moment, and said, "Sorry to disappoint you, but the only rooms available are suites. Is that all right?"

"More than all right!" I exclaimed jovially. "You're silly to even ask."

The man accepted my card from my hand, swiping it through the small machine and then going back to typing at the computer. When everything was done, he returned my card and stated, "You'll be on the top floor, room 1211." He handed me the cardkey.

"_Merci,_" I gratified, taking what he handed me and turning back towards the exit. I sat on an unoccupied occasional chair, situating my stuff.

Even though I had been given the time to think, I still had no idea what the fuck I was going to get Maximus for a birthday present. I knew Max well enough, and he'd probably want some geeky book or gadget, but those sort of things were too obvious for a gift. Normally, I wouldn't put so much thought and effort into getting someone a present—in fact, I couldn't really remember when I did give someone a present—but this was my little Max, and I wanted to see his face beam with a surprised and happy smile.

If I was 100 percent of a bastard, I would get Max something pretty raunchy, like his first porno rag. That would piss the boy off though, and I had seen his angry face far too many times to count. I had to get him something sweet, and I suddenly had _somewhat _of an idea. So, I jumped up from my seat, heading out of the hotel and to a store I had spotted on the way.

As I walked, I thought about what Maximus was doing now, whether or not he had kicked the opponent's ass or had already failed miserably. Part of me sort of wished I had gone, so I could see the delicious way Max became all frustrated and _hot_ as he concentrated on the battle. I bit my bottom lip, remembering how Max's intense glare had morphed into a weightless, astonished expression as he realized he was victorious. I wanted to see that again.

I arrived at the small, quiet department store. I stared into the windows for a moment before heading inside and searching for what I wanted. It didn't take long to actually locate the item, but the problem was picking out a particular _type._ I spent a good ten or so minutes deciding, and once I did, I didn't feel as if this was all I could get the boy. He needed something a bit more fun, and although the current gift was sweet and sentimental, he most definitely deserved more.

I quickly decided what I would get him as an addition. _This _took longer to pick out—so long that I lost track of time—but eventually, I found what I wanted. I grinned like a bastard, holding up the item and staring at it intently. When Max saw this, he would think I was the biggest fuck in the world, but I'd find a way to persuade him into realizing I just wanted him to have some good, old fashioned fun!

Now, very, very satisfied with my choice of presents, I quickly paid for them and left the store. I had been out for about forty-five minutes, and I hoped poor Maximus wasn't feeling too, too alone as he battled. Since I was done shopping for his gifts I still had time to go to the Gym with the hope the battle was still taking place.

I stuffed my purchases in my bag as I walked towards the lighthouse casually. As I got closer and closer to the place, I could smell the sea air perfectly. There were two buildings on the very edge of the concrete dock: one, which was the actual Gym, I supposed, and the other, being the enormous lighthouse. I approached the Gym building, peeking inside the window and discovering the inside looked completely empty. I helped myself to walking inside the building, searching carefully around for where the arena was located. It was quite the fancy place, really, and I had to wonder who decided it would be crafty and unique to put a goddamn Gym near a goddamn lighthouse. Because it wasn't crafty and it wasn't unique—it was fucking lame.

I spotted a large metal doorway, revealing just a tinsy bit of a tan and white arena floor. From the room, I heard a woman's voice yelling, followed up by a release of some sort of Pokémon attack. It wasn't too long after her shout that I heard the lovely voice of my darling Max, shouting for his Mareep, apparently, to use Thundershock. After hearing such a lovely bit of cadence, I walked into the arena, very slowly making my way towards the large fleet of bleachers towards the other side.

I was to Max's back so he couldn't see me, but I was already given a full view of the battle. Max was up against a large and very angry looking Steelix, and his Mareep looked positively exhausted. Just as I was headed towards the bleachers, I spotted a small girl, looking just a tiny bit older than Max, who jumped up from her seat at the judging bench, and approached me immediately. She had dark, dark hair to her shoulders and was rather short for what I thought was her age. She looked like a pain in ass.

"Excuse me, Sir, what are doing here?" she wondered. I noticed that she had on this silly little string-strapped purse, and it made her look plain ridiculous.

I gave her an intimidating look, glaring only a little. "I'm Max's friend," I said, "and I've come to watch him."

The girl rose an eyebrow, not believing me. But, she apparently did not think I was threatening nonetheless, because she gestured for me to sit with her, which I agreed to do. As I walked, passing by Max and into his view, I heard the boy shout:

"_Harley_?"

I turned and waved merrily, adding a small wink before I pointed to the arena, hinting at him to stay focused on the battle. The boy blinked a couple of times, but quickly returned to looking at his Mareep, who was obviously struggling to keep its energy up. I turned back around and sat, making sure there was lots of room between the weird girl and myself.

"Your friend already knocked out Jasmine's two Magnemite," she droned unhappily, looking at me.

"I'm not surprised. My Ma—um, _Max, _is a very strong trainer." I flashed my teeth in a smirk. "Are _you _a trainer, dearie?"

The small girl glared at me. And, it wasn't the same kind of glare Max gave me—the cute and amusing sort—no, it was an annoying little scowl that made me want to _hurt _her. I instantly realized Max was right when he hinted at being better than kids his age, because _fuck, _it was true.

"Yeah," she answered. "Jasmine's training me to become the Gym Leader here. By the way, my name's Jenina."

I nodded. "That's interesting," I commented, watching the battle. Max had ordered Mareep to use Tackle, but Steelix's long, powerful tail struck the small creature as it approached, sending it flying across the arena and fainting instantly. I frowned heavily at the sight, seeing from here that Max was utterly frustrated. I hoped he didn't think I had brought bad luck.

"Return, Mareep," he said as the Pokéball summoned the creature safely away. He threw out another ball, and out came the famous Slugma I had heard about, red and full of gunky lava. "Ember!" the boy ordered.

I smiled fondly at the way Max clenched his fist and stepped forward. He looked so goddamn adorable right now—I just wanted to rush over there, pin him to the ground, and fuck him. I exhaled to calm myself, then realized this Jenina girl was staring at me.

I furrowed my brow, asking sternly, "_What_?"

"Nothing," she insisted, but she had a weird look on her face. "How old are you?" the girl then blurted out.

"Excuse me, missy, but is that any of your business?" I grunted, hearing Jasmine order Steelix to use Rage. "Didn't your sister ever you teach you manners?"

"It's just a question," she said, watching as Slugma zoomed across the rough arena and hide behind a rock as Steelix readied its attack.

"I'm twenty-four. What's it to you?"

The girl gave an odd look, crooking her mouth and saying, "It's pretty weird to be hanging out with a kid like him." She gestured towards Max.

I laughed, probably in a way that was all too revealing. It didn't matter anyway, because I had a feeling little Jenina here was already onto the truth about Max and I. I couldn't say I particularly cared, as she was just a girl and probably wouldn't say anything about it in her own disbelief of the revelation. Still, it was pretty impressive of her to detect anything at all, especially since Max and I hadn't even interacted. Then again, the age difference between us was a bit suspicious, and I wasn't sure there was anyone intelligent who would believe the "friends" explanation.

"Well," I began, shrugging my shoulders heavily, "we all have our opinions." I smirked at the girl, deciding it might be fun to mess with her head. I watched as Steelix took another swing with its tail, managing to hit Slugma this time and causing the lava creature to skid across the ground.

Jenina smiled pleasantly at the turn of events on the arena. "Jasmine is thinking of retiring from the Gym soon," she explained, suddenly changing the subject. I supposed she either didn't want to talk about what was going on between Max and I, or she actually _didn't _know.

"Max's father is a Gym Leader," I stated, smirking still. "Norman—perhaps you've heard of him?"

The girl blinked a couple of times. "Really?" she wondered. She stared at Max for a moment, obviously searching for the resemblance. "Hmm, you're right. That's amazing. I don't think I would've realized that had you not said it."

Jenina went on to explaining some more nonsense about her dear sister, going on and on about this and that until I eventually faded her voice out. I concentrated on the match, watching as Slugma's mouth opened and fire burst from its mouth, traveling over to Steelix and slamming against the tall Pokémon's body. Steelix grunted in pain, but emitted a gigantic ray of orange and yellow light from its mouth, a further result of Rage continuing on even now. This attack hit Slugma back, but the lava creature managed to endure most of the attack, shaking it off afterward.

"Slugma, use Flamethrower!" Max commanded, throwing out his arm to emphasize the urgency. "Hurry!"

Slugma was surprisingly quick, skating around and igniting a heavy storm of flames from its mouth once more. The burst of flames flew towards Steelix, wrapping around the steel body and smelting the creature instantly. Steelix growled in pain, writhing around and losing concentration on where its tail was landing. Smashing and hitting rocks, Steelix created a mess on the arena, and meanwhile, Slugma used the destruction to its advantage by sliding between the boulders, into the small creases where Steelix couldn't reach.

"Steelix," Jasmine yelled, "use Iron Tail!"

Steelix only managed to make a bigger mess, grinding down the boulders but still not being able to reach where Slugma hid. Slugma zoomed out as Steelix continued to stress, gliding around the Iron Snake.

"Ember, again!" Max yelled.

Slugma breathed in, getting ready to spurt the flames out as fast it could. The fire flew through the air, twisting and turning at its incredible speed before slamming against Steelix and making the creature grind onto the ground as it attempted to stay in place.

"Steelix, just hang on!" Jasmine soothed.

But, the hope was no use—Steelix was getting very tired, and Max still had one more Pokémon left, even if Jasmine succeeded in knocking out Slugma. This match was going very well for Maximus. I could feel the nervousness in Jenina's body next to me, and I could sense she really did not want her sister to lose. I wondered what that was like, having a sibling and all. Unconditional love and never-ending loyalty—it seemed utterly impossible yet Max seemed to have it with May, and even these two—Jasmine and Jenina—appeared very close. I honestly could not imagine it at all.

"_Overheat_!" Max ordered. "Come on, Slugma!"

Slugma's body glowed with a light red radiance, burning up before it shot the attack towards Steelix with frightening speed. Jenina jumped up in panic, tightening her fists and sweating bullets as she watched the attack bang into Steelix and causing the Iron Snake to fall over, collapsing into an immediate faint of tired, bleary unconsciousness.

"No!" Jenina shouted, more devastated than Jasmine.

I smiled happily, turning to look at Max, who smiled back at me. I stood up, clapping theatrically. "Bravo, Maximus!" I shouted through my smirk.

I watched Jasmine return her Steelix and then begin to walk over to Max as he returned Slugma. Jasmine was a pretty thing, really, so young and sweet looking. Her little sun dress and cutesy hairstyle made her look so childlike and innocent, and I couldn't imagine why she was thinking about retiring at her age. There was, however, something worn-out about her, and I sensed this battle went down so easily because she was starting to lose her touch. And, of course, Maximus was an excellent trainer!

"I'm very impressed, Max," Jasmine applauded sincerely. "It's been quite some time since my last battle, and you certainly showed me why I should keep up my training even when trainers aren't around to ask for battles." She smiled, reaching into her pocket and then presenting a small rock-shaped badge in her open palm.

"Thanks," Max said, taking the badge and examining it carefully. A look of disbelief flashed across his face, and for the first time, I think he realized that he only had _one _more badge left to go.

Jenina finally walked up to us, looking glum and very disappointed. "That was a neat match," she droned, and it lacked all sincerity.

"Jenina!" Jasmine chided. She then acknowledged me for the first time, reaching out to shake my hand. "Hello, by the way," she greeted.

I shook her hand. "Hello," I said. "Nice to meet you."

Max looked up at me suspiciously, wondering if my attitude was going to morph into something bitter and rude. But, I had no reason to be rude to Jasmine; she wasn't some cranky old man like Pryce. When Max realized I wasn't going to be a bastard, he extended his arm up, offering to let me look at the badge. I did so, admiring its dull but interesting colors.

"One more to go," I said, handing it back to my darling.

Jasmine blinked, concluding in her head what I meant. "That might be easier said than done," she stated sadly. "Clair isn't at her Gym right now."

"Clair?" Max echoed. "You mean, the Blackthorn City Leader isn't at the Gym?"

Jenina nodded. "Yeah, she's out on vacation right now." The girl then shrugged. "You could battle Liza, she's currently substituting at the Gym. She runs a valley where she trains Charizard, so she's pretty strong herself."

I looked down at Max, watching as disappointment washed through the boy's face. "_Why_?" he wondered, mostly to himself. "Do you know when she's going to be back at the Gym?"

Jasmine shrugged and replied, "I heard in about a month and a half. A lot of trainers are waiting until Clair comes back though, so I wouldn't be surprised if you chose that, too."

"The Johto League isn't for another five months," Jenina chimed in again. "So, it's not like you have any big rush."

Max seemed to be considering his options now, but instead of deciding for himself, he looked up to me and asked, "What do you think, Harley?"

Taken back, I stuttered a bit, unsure what to say. I collected myself quickly though, telling him, "I think the final decision is up to you, Max. But, if you want my oh-so respected opinion, I would wait until the actual Leader comes back."

Jasmine smiled once more. "Whatever you choose, Max, I wish you all the luck in the world. And good luck in the League, too. I'm sure you'll do fantastic." She reached out to shake Max's hand in a congratulatory way.

"Thank _you_ for the match, Jasmine," Max said, turning around and beginning to walk out of the Gym.

I waved goodbye and followed Max out of the Gym building. Outside, the sea air still smelt just as strong and a cool breeze had developed, hitting against my face in a lovely, relaxing way. It was still pretty early in the afternoon, but the sun was already starting to go down, mostly hiding behind the many buildings in Olivine.

In the glimmering sun, Max held up his badge proudly. "One more to go!" he exclaimed. "Can you _believe _that, Harley?"

"I can honestly say I can't," I admitted. "My Maximus makes me so proud," I then cooed, bending down and sweeping an arm around the boy's thin waist. I kissed him gently on the cheek, rubbing my lips against his chin for a while.

Max squirmed away, but his giddy smile remained. "Thanks for getting me around Johto so quickly," he said as he removed himself from my grip. "But, I don't know what to do about Clair and final Gym."

"Well, you got a load of time to think about it, Maximus," I reminded him. "After all, I did indeed book us a hotel for four nights."

A small blush developed on the boy's face. "Oh," he murmured. "That's good to know."

"Indeed it is," I reaffirmed. "Now, darling, let's get something to eat. I'm fucking starved."

Max dug into his bag's front pocket, taking out his badge case and placing the Mineral Badge in the second to last spot carefully. With one blank spot left, the case already looked so complete and colorful. The sight of this reminded me how lovely my ribbon case tended to look after earning five ribbons. The thought made me wish I had some ribbons to look at and admire. Knowing my excellent history in Contests—that is, the ones that trollop didn't fuck up—I had a strong feeling I would do reasonably well in the upcoming Contest.

Max and I walked along the concrete dock, following the seaside view for quite some time. Despite the dock being busy with quite a few ships and vessels, the water looked remarkably clean and clear, although I still wouldn't swim it in, even if I was paid. I was never fond of oceans, except for the one back home in Slateport City, because I knew who and what was swimming in there.

Coming across a small shack between some tourist-y gift shops, I halted Max with a tug of the shoulder. Grabbing the wounded one I had nipped, Max grunted, but stopped anyway, knowing this was where I had chosen for us to eat. I could hear Max's stomach growling as he got a whiff of the yummy smelling food, a variation of Western and traditional foods.

I dug into my pant pocket, grabbing some money and handing it over to Max. "Order something for me, darling," I said.

"But, I don't know what to get you!" he argued. "God knows you'll complain about what I pick!"

I laughed, but shook my head. "Whatever you choose _is fine,_" I insisted before walking off towards the edge of the dock and sitting peacefully, letting my legs dangle off. "But, don't get anything spicy!" I yelled as I placed my bag next to me and removed my hat.

I lifted my chin up into the breeze, closing my eyes and letting the wind hit my face as best it could. I swore I tasted the sea water in my mouth just from breathing it in, and I suddenly missed Slateport City terribly. I missed my fucking house and my fucking beach and my fucking neighbors, who I actually never talked to and really hated. Since I hired a housekeeper this time around, my beach house was probably spick and span, but she probably stole something, the stupid bitch_._ I wondered, vaguely, what my Maximus would think about my lovely little home. He'd probably think of me as a snobby fuck, and truthfully, that's what people were who owned beach houses, but at least I _lived _there and didn't just spend my summer there like some people.

Actually, sitting and thinking about Slateport made me realize I never really had brought someone back to _see _my home. Many men had been there for some good, old fashioned _fun_, but when I considered Max seeing my place, I sort of felt as if it wasn't right, as if that was just a bit too much. Max was my traveling lad, and I couldn't ever see myself bringing him all the way home and relaxing there with him. But, _oh, _Max was certainly worthy—a whole lot more worthy than the men who I had brought there for a single night. I just couldn't locate my exact problem with the situation.

Shaking my head away from the thoughts, I decided to let Totodile out of his ball and swim around in the water for a while. As I released the creature, I thought about the Contest tomorrow, and how my lack of preparation might hinder my performance. I wasn't worried about the Appeal too much, as my darling _Toto_ had an excellent knack for balancing himself in the air as he used Water Gun; I was more concerned with the battling portion. Totodile hadn't had the opportunity to battle that much, but I knew he would give it his all no matter what.

Released from his Pokéball, Totodile helped himself to diving into the sea, swimming about happily alongside the cement dock and around the buoys. I felt Maximus linger behind me at that moment, so I turned to look at him, watching as he sat next to me carefully with a paper tray of food. Inside the tray were two corn dogs and two small drinks. The boy mimicked the way I let my feet dangle off the dock before handing me one of the drinks and corn dogs.

"This isn't exactly the healthiest lunch," he muttered as he noticed Totodile swimming.

I examined the corn dog as I held it by the wooden stick. "Fast food normally isn't," I told him. "And, out of everything on the menu, you did an excellent job choosing the most phallic-shaped of the bunch." I grinned at him crookedly.

Max blinked a couple of times, and it took a moment before my statement actually sank into the boy. At that point, he grimaced, furrowing his brow and grunting. "It's just _food_, Harley. Get over it!" He opened his mouth—wide, I must note—before I stopped him, putting a hand on his wrist and wagging a finger orderly.

"Let's have a contest," I stated. "Whoever can put it in their mouth furthest without gagging _wins._" I laughed, licking my lips and dunking my head back as I readied myself to begin.

"_What_?" the boy gasped. "Harley, no! What kind of game is that?"

I shrugged, looking back at the boy. "A gag reflex one, apparently," I told him. "And, you know, from personal experience, I'd say you did quite well last night, so you have nothing to be ashamed of now, Max."

Max blushed again, shrugging out his shoulders in humiliation. "I don't really understand the point."

"It's a competition," I explained. "Mark it with the tip of your teeth so we can see who gets it deeper."

Max looked at the corn dog helplessly, and I think he knew that I was undoubtedly going to be victorious. He scrunched up his face momentarily before following suit and lolling his head back. I chuckled at his compliance, holding the corn dog by the very end of the stick before I began to lower it into my mouth, subconsciously covering my teeth with my lips.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Max copying my every move. His head was dunked back a lot further though, and he was lowering the corn dog into his mouth a bit too fast. It looked incredibly erotic despite his clumsiness, especially the way his delightful chin protruded out and his eyes began to close. _Ahh_, Max, his mouth was made for sucking cock, I was sure of it.

Suddenly, the boy began to gag, coughing and hacking just as he bit into the soft bread and tore the corn dog out of his mouth, everything still fully intact. I continued to slowly glide the thing a few centimeters into my mouth. When I felt a tickle in my throat, I bit down, and it did not surprise me when instead of feeling the bread, I felt the wooden stick. I took the corn dog out of my mouth and laughed proudly.

Max took the corn dog from my hand, aligning it with his own and measuring the difference between how far we each got it in our mouths. His was _barely _halfway down the breaded crust while mine was just a few centimeters down the beginning of the stick. He gaped in disbelief, looking up at me and seeming disgusted.

"What a weird talent," he grunted, shoving the corn dog back at me. Then, "Doesn't matter. You're older, and your mouth is bigger." Envy dripped in his words.

"Maybe," I laughed, "but, I am a bit disappointed. I thought you could do better." I took a real bite from the corn dog.

Max's expression flattened. "Gee, _thanks,_" the boy muttered. "Maybe you should just teach me if you're that concerned about it."

My smiled widened. "I could!" I exclaimed. "I mean, _if you wanted, _I could."

Max shook his head immediately. "No thanks," he denied, taking a bite out of the food and chewing angrily.

"I guess it's just good, old practice you need," I concluded devilishly. "But, never mind that, I think you tried wonderfully, darling." I jabbed him playfully with my shoulder.

Max rolled his eyes and finished the rest of his food. As he sipped his drink, I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, making sure to press hard onto his body so he lost his balance just a bit. Annoyed, the boy slapped me away and turned so he could continue drinking.

"Harley, don't you think you should practice more with Totodile before the Contest tomorrow?" the boy wondered, raising an eyebrow.

"In fact, I do," I honestly replied. "Are you tired out from your little Gym match or would you care for a battle, my sweet?"

Max muttered something—most likely about the nickname I just gave him—but stood up energetically and clenched his fist. "I'm not tired at all!" he stated. "Stantler needs some training, too."

I smiled at Max as I finished my drink. "Totodile!" I shouted, calling for the creature, who was still swimming in the water. "Come back up here—we're going to have another battle with my Maximus!"

Totodile seemed very excited, hopping out of the water instantly and positioning himself for battle. I stood up and quickly threw away our garbage as Max prepared for the battle himself, throwing out Stantler's Pokéball onto the concrete dock. The dock was wide enough for us to battle and not interfere with any of the passing folks, and with the continual sea breeze still blowing about splendidly, it made such a unique spot for a battle.

Stantler's hoofs clicked against the cement as he pawed forward, and Totodile, too, already seemed to forget its opponent was a friendly acquaintance. Since the two had played together in the Ecruteak City park, one would imagine they wouldn't be too savvy battling each other, but Totodile had always had a competitive nature, and it seemed Max's Stantler possessed just the same attitude.

"Totodile," I began, licking my lips thoughtfully, "start off with Water Gun!"

"Stantler, use Tackle!" Max commanded.

Our Pokémon raced toward the other, but it was Totodile who jumped up into the air, gargling out a heavy burst of water straight onto Stantler's body. Stantler stepped back a few feet before shaking itself dry and running once more, slamming into Totodile just as the blue crocodile landed. Not expecting this, Totodile took the attack hard, and flew through the air in an aftermath of pain.

"Stop Stantler dead in its tracks with Scary Face!" I yelled.

"Avoid eye-contact and use Take Down!"

Max's order was already more successful. Stantler turned away, running back until it gained enough room between Totodile and itself. It dashed forward, head down and avoiding the grimacing glare that painted Totodile's face. Knowing I had to change my tactic, I quickly decided my best bet was to steer away from special defense mode and switch to full attacks.

"_Toto,_ use Slash!"

Claws thrashing out, the blue creature leaned its upper-body forward, making a speedy jump from the ground and onto Stantler's back. Stantler skidded to a stop, Take Down failing, and was soon inflicted with the scratching of sharp nails over and over. It screeched in a fit of frustration, bucking its body up and throwing Totodile off its back. Totodile recovered from the fall, getting on his feet and rushing around Stantler's legs to confuse the creature.

"Stantler, Stomp!"

Between his front legs, Totodile was impacted by Stantler's hard hoofs and was immediately knocked to the left, out from underneath the Big Horn Pokémon. Stantler repeated the motion, stomping down several more times and causing Totodile into a dizzy confusion. When the blue crocodile managed to stand, he stumbled, unaware of his surroundings.

"Water Gun!" I directed despite it all.

Luckily, Totodile was facing the right direction, and the impact of the water gushing out onto Stantler was strong enough to send the brown Pokémon a couple of feet back.

"Ice Beam!" I shouted.

"Stantler, move out of the way and use Take Down!"

Totodile's beam of ice was quick, and the hard frost spun around as Totodile moved its body to meet Stantler's dodges. Unable to avoid it any longer, the beam hit Stantler in the neck, bringing it back, but also providing a safe distance away from any further damage. At this point, Stantler jolted forward, slamming all its weight into Totodile and causing the blue creature to regain its dizziness. Now, completely vulnerable, Stantler had the upper-hand, getting ready for Max's next command.

"Tackle!"

"_Hydro Pump_!"

Totodile breathed in all he could, sending the water right into Stantler's face and hindering the Pokémon from its Tackle. Without the ability to move any closer or manage the strength to move away, Stantler was forced to keep taking the attack. Totodile used all of his energy on the attack, spurting out all the gushes of water before leaping forward and slapping a hard, deep Slash attack onto Stantler's face. Stantler fell immediately, dizzy and unable to comprehend the powerful combination.

Max blinked in disbelief as his fainted Pokémon. He looked up to me, then to Totodile, continuing to express a dumbfounded look. I grinned proudly, calling over Totodile and bending down to pat the creature on the head. Max returned Stantler in dismay, whispering something to the Pokéball before slowly walking over to me, practically dragging his adorable little feet.

"Looks like my _Toto _is ready for a battle tomorrow," I noted, still grinning. Just to ensure my darling Maximus I wasn't a bastard, I leaned forward, kissing him on the forehead. "Don't worry, darling—you've had your victory today."

Max shrugged, but his mood shifted soon after. "I want a Totodile," he revealed. "Yours is so feisty and strong."

Totodile lifted its chin in an egotistical way, taking the compliment without protest. Max smiled at this, rubbing its scaly back with admiration. I leaned in, giving Max a longer, deeper kiss, but this time on his thin, smooth lips.

"I think you're going to do very well tomorrow," Max admitted.

"Why thank you," I replied, returning Totodile into his ball. I stood up, bowing obnoxiously and blowing a kiss right in Max's direction.

"Don't do that if you win," the boy discouraged, rolling his eyes.

"Why not?" I wondered. "Before I just blew kisses to my devoted and lovely supporters, but now—_now_—I have someone to really blow a kiss to, you know?" I smiled happily.

Max gave a softer expression, possibly considering my statement. Whatever the case, the boy remained pretty negative, simply going to the edge of the dock and grabbing his bag. "So, are you going to take me to this hotel you booked?" the boy asked.

"I sure am," I jovially answered, grabbing my bag as well. Even though the presents I had purchased Maximus for his birthday were not the heaviest in the world, I still felt a difference in the weight of my bag. I suddenly hoped Max didn't secretly snoop through my belongings when I was asleep.

Max and I walked to the hotel in record time, although truthfully, the hotel and the food shack were not that far apart. The boy was obviously amazed at the size and appearance of the hotel, as he stared in awe at every little detail even before we entered the building.

"We're on the very top floor—isn't that nice?" I told him, looking at the cardkey. "Floor twelve, room eleven."

As we entered the extravagant building Max continued to look around curiously, taking notice of the small kiosks that were spread across the lobby. There were several restaurants inside the hotel, including a nice, dim bar that I was instantly attracted to checking out. The advertisements on the glowing windows made me crave a delightfully tasty cosmo or daiquiri. Rum was sounding delicious at this moment, so I was leaning more towards the latter. Even though I knew Max would protest against me hanging around the bar for a few hours, I was almost going to go through with it until I remembered the fucking Contest. Having a hangover the day of a Contest wouldn't provide me with the best performance.

"Fuck," I muttered, still guiding Max through the lobby and to the elevators.

Max heard my mutter and wondered, "What's wrong?"

"I want to get wasted." I shrugged, not seeing a reason to lie to my darling Maximus, even if he was going to get pissed.

Sure enough, Max's expression hardened. "Why?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

"Why _not_?" I countered. "You like cranberry juice, don't you? If not, I could always choose lemon juice for a filler. Come to think of it, I think you would like a daiquiri. I promise I won't tell if you choose to drink it up with me, Maximus." I shined my teeth in a flashy smirk.

"No thanks," Max rejected, entering the open elevator with me once a man left. "You have a Contest to attend tomorrow, Harley." He said this rudely, so completely bratty and snide that I couldn't believe it.

I leaned back against the wall of the elevator, sighing heavily. "You're no fun," I complained, exaggerating a pout. "But, I suppose you're right."

The elevator doors swung open quickly when we reached the twelfth floor. I walked out, reading off the numbers on the doors in front of us, and turning left to head towards the room. When I located the correct number, I unlocked the room with the electronic swipe and we entered.

It was a glorious suite—I could tell even without the lights on. When Maximus decided to switch on the electricity we both were able to see the full glory of the room: the unique coloring of blues and grays, the thick and swishy curtains, the soft, plush carpeting, and the odd but lovely landscapes and still life paintings. The front of the suite was the living room, complete with every needed furniture and including a mini-fridge and a few extra pieces just for show. On the other side of the suite was the bedroom, separated by a glass door that spread out through the entire north wall. It was _huge _compared to the previous rooms we had stayed at, and it was definitely one of the finest suites I ever had the pleasure of residing at for a few days. I hadn't had the luck of getting such a large suite when I stayed here before either.

Max set his bag down near the sofa and removed his shoes politely. As he sat down, I swayed my way over to the sofa as well, setting down my bag and then dropping to my knees before him with a grin. Max gave me an odd and questioning stare, unsure what I was doing. But, when I extended my arm and urged him forward, he was compliant, resting into my embrace nicely as I rubbed up and down his back.

"I'm fucking beat," I admitted to him with a sigh. "Don't ever make me travel that far again, darling."

Max snorted rudely. "Compared to other distances I've traveled, that was _nothing,_" he told me. "You really ought to rely more on your feet than public transportation sometimes," he then chided.

I laughed, waving a hand in dismissal. "Don't be silly," I said with a grin. "Why on earth _should _I? I'm fit and trim." I jutted out my shoulders in a pose, displaying my figure.

Max was uninterested in my statement, which I was slightly offended by, as I knew he enjoyed my body. I had seen the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn't paying attention, and more importantly, I saw the way he looked at my body when we fucked. He stared, but tried to stay polite about it, and from his open mouth expression, I knew that he was mesmerized by the view of a grown man's body. It was just the same as when I gazed at his adorable, cute, lithe body. We were so different, but _dear Lord, _I couldn't help wanting him no matter what.

"So," Max started, breaking the silence, "what's the plan for tomorrow?"

I smiled brightly. "Well, we need to get to the Contest Hall early so I can register," I explained thoughtfully. "Other than that, I think everything is fine and dandy."

I stood up, examining some of the contents on the coffee table. There was a menu for drinks and deserts, but nothing too, too interesting. I decided to check out the black mini-fridge over in the corner. Inside, there was a _large _variety of liquors, including all sorts of brands of vodka and some wine as well. I heard Max make a noise in the back of his throat before leaving and heading towards the bedroom with his bag.

Helping myself to my favorite brand of vodka, I broke open the bottle's cap and took a timid sip. It was strong and burned my throat, but it was delicious. The amazing taste made me crave nothing but _more _alcohol, and the desire for a daiquiri overly polluted with exotic tropical rum sparked all over again. I bit my bottom lip, then took another gulp of the vodka. At this point, I was too lazy to go down to the bar, and ordering room service would do no good, as drinks were never as good as they were when made right in front of the watching eyes of customers.

I took the bottle with me as I followed Max into the bedroom. When I walked in, Max was just finishing putting on a new shirt, and he appeared to already be dressed in his nightwear. It was the first time I had actually seen this type of clothing on him since we never winded up in bed with any clothing. He looked _adorable _though: his little white shirt tightly surrounding his shoulders and his dark green shorts just barely covering half his thighs, the faunlet!

"Don't worry," I assured, gesturing towards the bottle, "I have no intention of getting hammered." I smiled at him fondly.

Max threw his day clothes down on the floor next to his bed. I continued to drink the liquor, feeling some dizziness rise into my head as I took a larger gulp. I knew at this point it would be wise to stop drinking, but I couldn't help adoring the taste.

Max walked over to me slowly, sniffing the bottle from my hands and making a face. "It's hard to believe something as clear as water could make someone so stupid," he rudely noted. He then took the bottle from my hands, taking a further sniff.

"My offer still stands to let you have a taste," I told the boy.

Max looked up at me questionably, but instead of dismissing the offer entirely, he closed one eye, staring into the bottle's neck with the other eye. One more sniff, and then Max slowly—very fucking slowly—lifted the glass, placing his lips around the tip and drinking the alcohol. Not even a teaspoon later, the boy began coughing, throwing the bottle out from his mouth and pounding his chest to regain a steady breath.

"_Disgusting_!" he hollered, pushing the bottle back into my grip. "Why would you ever drink that?"

I laughed at his reaction, but I patted his back, trying to help him stop gagging. "Well, you're young," I explained, "so maybe your tastebuds aren't ready for this delicious drink." I took a swig from the bottle.

Max grunted again. "Ugh, I can't believe you got me to try that." He wiped his mouth, trying to get rid of the aftertaste.

"Next it's time for a cigarette!" I exclaimed. I then put up a hand to silence any protest. "Just _kidding, _Maximus. I have no intention of corrupting you to those extremes—I'm quite fond of your innocent, cute self." I gave a goofy grin, and it made me realize instantly that I was a bit tipsy.

Max slapped his lips together, obviously _still _tasting the lingering alcohol. The sight of his small, thin lips becoming wet made me smile, and it felt like I was literally forced to swing an arm around the boy's waist, pulling him up so I could carry him in my arms. Warm and small against me, lust filled my body and mind, and I turned my head, taking another swig from the bottle.

"Your breath _stinks_," Max complained.

As punishment for such a mean comment, I forced our lips together, making sure to jab my tongue into his mouth as well. Max squirmed and made a noise of disgust, but I continued on, beginning to slide my free hand through his soft, blue hair. I thrust my hips up, rubbing my stomach against him to urge an arousal. Not succeeding in enough contact, I bent down a little, placing down the vodka and then pinning Max onto the bed.

"Mmph, Harley!" the boy huffed, panting to catch his breath. "I'm tired!"

I sighed sadly, not feeling Max react the way I wanted. "I am, too," I admitted, "but I'm not tired enough not to fuck." I gave a pouty face.

Max rolled his eyes before squirming out from underneath me. "I just want to go to bed," he stated.

I flopped onto my back, completely beat. "I suppose that would be a better idea," I sighed out, beginning to remove my clothing as I felt Max get under the sheets. When I had successfully removed all my clothing, I went under the sheets, too, then turned to look at Max. "My head hurts," I told him.

"You're drunk," Max said.

"Not quite." I reached out, sliding a hand beneath Max's shirt and feeling his chest. "Take this off, darling," I urged, pushing the fabric up.

Max listened to me, lifting his arms and taking off his shirt and then his glasses. He _then _went ahead and slid off his shorts even without my request. I grinned happily at this, but couldn't help reaching out, wanting desperately to touch Maximus. The boy stopped me, grabbing my wrist and glaring.

"Let's just go to bed, okay?" he suggested. "I already wasted my time dressing, and I need sleep."

"Are you rejecting me?" I wondered, my mind still so fogged with a blurry haze.

"I guess," the boy shrugged out. But, then, he moved forward, placing a soft kiss on my lips, which I knew was for pity.

But, I couldn't accept that Max was rejecting me. How could _he _be more tired than me? I was more than willing for a rendezvous—maybe even two or three or eight—so, I sternly believed Max's refusal was due to being a stubborn little pest and _not _a disinterest. So, I sighed heavily, feeling my body's arousal only worsen as I scooted closer to my darling boy, pushing our sides together and wrapping an arm around him. This felt nice, and I supposed it made me feel better about not having my cock buried in his tight ass at the very, living moment, but whatever the case, I wanted more.

"Darling," I said, reaching down touching Max's semi-hard cock, "this won't take all night—I think you can afford to lose these minutes of sleep." I grinned in a feline sort of way, making sure our bodies were pressed hard enough against each other so Max couldn't fight away the contact.

"Harley…"

"Yes, sweet thing?" I asked, sucking at his neck, which made his breathing hitch. "You know, it feels to me like you are very much willing to participate."

Max closed his eyes, his knees bending and his hips rising very slowly in a subconscious urgency to reach into my touch. I groaned myself at the feeling of his growing erection, hard and warm in my clutched hand. Good Lord, he was so young and frisky—such an obvious recovery and willingness to get hard just by simple dirty talk. There were many pros to having such an adorable, young boy such as Maximus all to myself, but his randy, vigorous nature was at the top. Oh, yes it was.

"You know, _this…_" the boy trailed off and blushed incredibly bright. "This… makes me feel so incompetent. My hands don't feel nearly as good as yours."

I threw my head back in a crazy laughter. "So, you're admitting to me you are a naughty little boy who touches himself?" I grinned, watching him turn _redder. _"Don't worry, Maximus. Your hands feel a _million times _better on my cock than my own, too."

Max's brow creased in a needy haze, and he purposely lifted his hips to ensure my hand was going to start moving sometime soon. I chuckled in a crazy, tipsy way, trying turning the boy over onto his stomach. Max immediately began to struggle, turning around halfway and frowning.

"Wait," he complained, "I don't like _this._"

"I know," I revealed, "but it makes it easier to pound into your hot, little body, my dear."

"But, your face—I can't see it." The boy tried to roll on his back again, but I paused his movements. "Harley!" he yelled.

"I'll let you see me," I promised, mounting over the boy and placing my head by his face. I turned slightly to see him more, managing to get a glimpse of the soft smile that painted his expression. I grinned back, whispering, "You're so irresistible sometimes."

I spit into my hand, rubbing the wetness onto my seemingly aching hardness. I continued stroking myself for a moment, imagining back to the previous night when it had been Max's mouth around it, taking in as much as he could and thrusting it in and out like a quick learner. I moaned loudly, bending down and capturing his mouth on mine, exploring it quickly to get a reminder of how magical and inflamed that wet tongue of his was. Oh, he was such a faunlet, such a little delightful piece of boyish charm. I felt his tongue slither against mine in a crooked kiss and warm air breathe out of his nostrils

Mouth still on his, I moved a hand down his body, spreading apart his legs to give myself an easier time pressing down onto him. My hand felt around his thighs before I lifted my palm and squeezed the boy's ass, so round and fucking perfect that I wanted to plunge myself into it right now. But, _that _had to wait—I wanted to tease him just a tinsy bit more, so I slid my mouth down his back, stamping overly wet kisses down his back until I reached his hip. I licked around there for a moment, my tongue gliding around his heated skin, salty from sweat. I smacked my lips together, grazing my teeth over the flesh, hinting at what I wanted to do to him.

"Harley!" he warned, craning his neck in fear.

"I won't do it too hard," I soothed before allowing my teeth to sink into his skin, my pointy ends causing most of the first-second stings.

Max's body shivered as I waited several more moments—and, keeping my teeth sunk but unmoving, he relaxed—but, with the grip of my mouth, I pulled the flesh up, massaging it between my teeth in a soft grind. Max huffed, knowing, just as I, that I was going to cause yet another yellow or green bruise. Between this all, I kept my free hand busy, wrapping it around his cock in a tantalizingly slow speed and then beginning to thrust it against my palm.

It was a bit too soon, but I adjusted myself and began pressing into his body, my judgment only slightly hazed but clear enough to recognize Max's painful grunts and the fidgety jerks of his arms and hips. I slowed my entry, going deeper an inch at a time before I managed to fully penetrate his body. Max's fists were balled, clutching the pillow cases and pressing his forehead into the cushion. I lowered my body, laying along his back so our faces could be side by side in order to see his delightful expressions.

"Hurt?" I wondered, stroking his erection to calm the pain.

The boy's hips rose, but his eyes remained closed. "Y-yes," he answered, "but, I want you to keep going."

"Maximus likes pain then?" I concluded in a playful inquiry. I inhaled deeply, feeling his muscles constrict and tighten around my penetrated cock. Having seemingly discovered what reaction this caused, Max repeated the motion, and I moaned deeply. "_Ah, _Max," I whispered, right into his ear.

Max's hands continued to clutch the sheets, even more so when I began rocking my hips, pulling out of his entrance and gliding back down not so slowly. Beneath me, Max panted in a heady desperation for me to go faster, but he said nothing. I straightened my back quickly, grabbing his hips and losing contact with his cock, but allowing a wonderful combination of thrusts and grinds.

"H-Harley!" the boy groaned, folding his knees for a moment.

I smiled. So tight and heated, this boy's ass was incomparable, so unique and fucking _grand _that I just lost it. I began pumping into him again and again, rolling and twisting my hips to get into him deep and causing him to emit wild gasps of pleasure and surprise. Max gritted his teeth, calling out my name in a rough, almost incoherent pant. His grip from the pillowcase fell, and he searched violently for something to grab a hold to until his fingers clutched around my loose strains of hair, tugging _hard_. And, _fuck _did I love getting my hair pulled!

"Max!" I shouted, and my tone was so sultry and lusty that there was no way the boy could mistake it for a criticism. I threw my head back, groaning loudly as he continued to pull, forcing my head lower and aligning straight against his.

"You're such—" the boy struggled to complete his sentence, as my thrusts deepened and quickened in a fast rut of pumps and drives. "You're such a weirdo!" he proclaimed, but his tone was uneven.

"And, you're such a faunlet!" I countered, meaning every bit of it.

Close to his neck now, I tilted my face, keeping my thrusts going deep and hard as I nipped his skin roughly, sending a similar loll of the head into him and a grunt that was half-pain, half-enjoyment. I slammed myself even rougher into his body, making the boy whimper before his legs gave out in a final upwards thrust and he let out his release. I pumped several more times for myself, feeling our slippery, wet skin slapping together, sticking momentarily before my thrusts drove the flesh apart. I finally climaxed when his fingers tightened around the several strains of hair fallen from my shoulders, and I moaned out his sweet name loudly.

I shook with an uneven aftershock of pain and pleasure, forcing most of my weight onto the boy. I let my hand linger beneath him, feeling his wet and sticky release on his stomach, having not held him in my hand as he came. I wiped the fluid off for him with my palm, but did not remove myself from his taut ass. I kept myself buried there, enjoying _so much _the constricting feeling.

"Maximus likes pain then," I said again, and this time it was not a question.

Max was still panting, catching his breath as he kept his eyes shut tightly. When he opened them, they were glazed over in a wet, hurt gloss that made me fear he had actually hated every second of it. But, he quietly revealed, "I think it's pretty obvious _you _like pain."

I grinned. "Quite obvious indeed," I agreed. I slapped his shoulder playfully, using it as a hold when I pulled myself out of his body very slowly. "Hair pulling is amongst my favorite things, darling."

Max scrunched up his face in an aftershock of the burning withdrawal of my cock. He rolled onto his back again, sighing heavily. "My whole body _hurts_!" he told me, but for whatever reason, it lacked all true concern. He sounded slightly _amazed_, in my oh-so grand opinion.

"There is one thing this lacked," I admitted. I leaned over, kissing him fervently in a quick combination of tongue and teeth. "_That._" And, it was true—the two of us hadn't kissed once while fucking this time.

Max shrugged. "I guess you were too tipsy to remember."

Oh, and he was right, I knew that much. No longer in a mist of lust and desire, my dizziness returned, and I remembered that although I didn't drink that much, I had enough to make me woozy. It would wear off by morning though. I was sure of that.

"Max," I said, pressing my face into his neck, "I already thought you were one amazing kid, but knowing you're open to some good old pain and games, well, that makes you… _even greater._"

Max shut his eyes. "You're so weird," he repeated, turning away from me.

I wrapped an arm around his stomach, pulling him close against my chest. My little Maximus may have been twelve-fucking-years-old, but _jeeesh, _he was everything I needed, and moreover, _wanted._ He really was. If he got away from me, I wasn't sure what I would do. I was amazed that it took me so long to find a boy as complete as Max.

**End of Part Seven**


	8. Part Eight

**Part Eight**

_-Harley-_

I yawned loudly, stretching my arms and trying to relax my muscles afterward. It was too early in the morning, and I was too goddamn tired to be dealing with the paperwork I had to fill out in order to be eligible for the Contest. Thankfully, however, I managed to finish, and I handed the pile over to the attendant at the counter, exchanging them for a Contest Pass and a flyer consisting of rules and regulations.

I wiped a small gleam of sweat from my forehead, exhausted from the humidity that surrounded us in the small lobby of the Contest Hall. I just wanted to go back to the hotel room and maybe fuck Max some more, because as the crowd thickened and the participants grew, I felt the extreme need _not to _enter the goddamn Contest. Because it was so goddamn early in the morning!

Apparently, I was the last entry before registration closed. Since I was entry eighteen that meant there were only eighteen participants, and therefore I did not understand why there was a crowd this big. Maybe people in Olivine City were just bored.

Sighing, I glanced around the crowded lobby, searching for where Max went. He had disappeared a few minutes ago, claiming he wanted to find more information about Contests in Johto. I grunted angrily, unable to locate the boy anywhere. I pushed through the throngs of coordinators and fans, eventually making my way out to a clearing alongside the hall to the waiting room for Contests participants. I quickly spotted Max near a rack of pamphlets, mostly advertisements other competitions.

"_Maximus,_" I called out, approaching the boy. "You and I really ought to get going. The Contest is starting in thirty minutes, and we need to get some breakfast."

The boy looked up from the rack of materials. "Really, you want breakfast?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe it'd be better if you battled me one more time in preparation for the Contest." He walked the rest of the way over to me.

I grinned, but confidently rose my chin and put my hands on my hips. "I do not need to practice anymore," I affirmed. "You said yourself I was destined to do fine in the Contest."

Max gave a flattened look. "Okay, fine," he droned, "but they are giving out food to participants and guests in the other corridor, so let's just go there."

"Fine with me," I agreed, urging Max to walk first with a push of my hips.

He walked into the small hall just north, bypassing the stage entrance and the waiting room for participants. In the back, there was an open lounge with a large table running across the furthest wall. It contained countless breakfast items, such as bagels, doughnuts, muffins and then drinks pertaining of coffee and orange juice. There wasn't that many folks wandering in this room, so I relaxed a bit, glad to be away from the crowd lingering elsewhere.

Max and I helped ourselves to the food, then sat down at an empty table. I recognized absolutely no one in the batch of obvious coordinators. Usually, there were a few that somehow showed up in every Contest I entered, but I supposed after not participating in a while, there was bound to be a handful of new trainers aspiring to be coordinators. Most of the people here were showing off their cases, either half full or barely decorated with the poofy and colorful beauty of ribbons. I, of course, had nothing of that sort with me. The last ribbon I had earned was from a small, weird town that I didn't even remember the name of, but recalled being in the outskirts of Johto.

"When I earn this ribbon here today, Max," I said in a cocky tone, "how will the two of us celebrate?"

Max was busy chewing on his bagel, but when he swallowed, he gave a roll of his eyes. "How about spending the rest of the day doing something a bit more _normal_?" he suggested. "I'm in no rush to get out of Olivine City though. I mean, I still don't know what I'm going to do about getting my last badge."

I shrugged as well. "You don't have to wait," I told him. "If you really wanted, you could just battle the woman they said was subbing for Clair."

Max did not look impressed by my suggestion. "I know, but I want to battle the actual _Leader._ What if this Liza girl isn't as good as they say, and beating her isn't much of a challenge?"

"Sounds like a free pass to me," I said, shrugging again. Max glared back and me, so I added, "But, darling, it's up to you." I began eating the muffin I had picked out, then washing it down with some orange juice.

"Can I see the flyer they gave you?" the boy then asked, ignoring my statements all together.

I handed it over, and the boy began reading it carefully as I continued to eat my meal. He then looked back up at me, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, _this _explains the crowd," the boy said. "It says here that students in training for judging Contests are required to attend this one as part of their course." He looked puzzled, handing back the paper to me.

I read over what he explained. "I've never even heard of that," I admitted. "Who the fuck would want to train to be a judge?"

Max shrugged. "I didn't even know you had to train or take a course," he told me. "It's sort of weird that so many people would come just for that though, but maybe most of the crowd here are students."

I waved about a hand, not caring. "I guess it's just more people who get to watch me perform." I drank up the rest of my orange juice, and as Max watched me, I noticed a dramatic change in his expression. I set down my drink, asking, "What's wrong?"

The boy pursed his lips. "This just sort of reminds me of when you and me first met, I guess."

I smirked widely. "Oh, really, it does?"

"Well, I mean, it's _a lot _different, but I guess it just sort of _feels _like when we first met: before a Contest, eating together, and um, I don't know, talking, maybe." Max shrugged widely.

I extended my arm and patted his cheek a little too roughly. "But, this time it's a whole lot better… for _obvious _reasons."

"Are you sure you don't want to have a battle?" Max suddenly asked, changing the subject.

I nodded and stood up to brush off the crumbs of the muffin. "Yes, I am sure," I said. "Besides, look at the time—I ought to be getting backstage, and you, my darling, need to find a seat."

Max looked slightly sad that we would have to separate, but he quickly stated, "Is it all right if I come backstage after your Appeal?"

"Of course it is," I answered, glad that Max didn't want to get rid of me for good. "I'll see you then, love." I bent down, placing a kiss on his forehead before I walked by, heading towards the waiting room.

Inside the small enclosure, I released Totodile, allowing him to sit next to me on one of the small sofas. The blue creature yawned loudly, appearing just as tired as myself when I awoke.

"We're going to do excellent," I told him, stating it like an unbreakable promise.

Totodile cooed in agreement, and soon after, the screen on the far wall burst to life, a clear sign of the Contest beginning. On the screen, the female announcer excited the crowd, welcoming them to yet another Johto Region Contest and added several points about the students training for judge roles and their attendance in today's Contest. I turned to the screen, watching as the camera paneled the crowd as they cheered and shouted for the competition to begin. I searched for Max in the crowd, but did not see him onscreen, so I turned back to Totodile and grinned confidently.

The announcer went on to explain the contestants would be up for their Appeals at random, starting with entry number ten. I folded my arms, watching the screen as the contestant soon appeared, throwing out her Pokéball as she obnoxiously spun around, trying her best to give a dramatic flip of her orange hair. She landed pleasantly at the center of the stage as the Pokémon burst from the ball, shaking itself of the silver light and revealing itself as a finely colored and groomed Vulpix.

The fire Pokémon landed in front of its trainer, spurting out a large trail of fire and spinning it into the air in several star-shaped splatters. Next, the fox Pokémon let its fire slither into a straight trail in order to link each star in a connect-the-dot pattern. The fire soon dissipated, and the Vulpix did a fancy hop to show off its bushy tail. The crowd cheered loudly, and the three professional judges gave their comments before the scorecard revealed a total of 79 points.

"Fabulous!" the announcer agreed. "Next, is entry seven!"

A short male brunette left the room, heading towards the stage. He quickly appeared on the screen, showing off his own method of releasing his Pokémon, which was a pathetic little Hoothoot. I turned away from the screen, crossing my legs and sighing restlessly. I wondered what my darling Maximus was doing at the very given moment, wondering if he was anticipating my Appeal and if he was front and center in the crowd.

"And, the final score is 63 points," the announcer revealed, her tone compassionate but very observant to why the so-called coordinator was given such a low score.

I laughed beneath my breath. "_Toto, _your Appeal is going to blow everyone here away," I told the Pokémon calmly. "It seems Johto _really _lacks good coordinators still." Now that Totodile had been given some air, I reached for his Pokéball in my pocket, returning him in preparation for the Appeal.

I waited for a good ten or fifteen minutes before _finally _getting called by the announcer. I stood up, readjusting my clothes and walking out to the very backstage, holding Totodile's Pokéball tightly in my hand. When the announcer called my name, I confidently rushed out onto stage, automatically throwing the ball in a fancy thrust and spin, sending Totodile straight into the air.

"Totodile," I called out, "use your Water Gun!"

Totodile was already off to a fantastic start: sending his Water Gun directly onto the stage and flying up even higher as he used the liquid to propel himself. Even as the blue creature left the splashes, the water remained fully intact for several seconds.

"Use Ice Beam!" I ordered. This had not been a part of my original plan, but Totodile and I had done this trick before, and it always came out flawlessly.

The crocodile sent his icy beams onto the water, freezing them instantly into long, spirally strands and loops. Already knowing the rest of the Appeal, Totodile spurted out more of his Water Gun, sending it directly on the top of the frozen blocks. The water fell from it, sliding down in a magnificent coast, emulating a waterfall.

"Now, finish this all off with your Tackle!"

And, my wonderful Totodile did a fantastic job slamming his tail into the beams of ice, shattering them into sparkles of dust that glittered throughout the stage and crowd before disappearing all together. Totodile landed next to me, and together, we bowed. Finally still and able to get a good look at the crowd, I spotted Max near the middle of the southern bleachers. I smiled widely at the sight of Max clapping along with the entire crowd.

"What a wonderful combination of three different attacks!" one of the judges proclaimed.

"Most definitely!" the announcer revealed happily. "And, with that, Harley is given a final score of 88 points, therefore putting him in the lead!" She gestured to the scorecard.

I was happy with the score, although I was certain Totodile deserved a solid score of 100 points. Of course, it didn't matter _too _much what points you received so long as it was higher than everyone else's so you could reach the second round. I was sure that with my current score, I was automatically in the safe zone, especially since the previous contestants hadn't received anything higher.

I left the stage after another quick bow, Totodile following happily. When I got back into the waiting area, I received several glares from the coordinators who had given their Appeals before me. I laughed beneath my breath once more, sitting down where I was before.

"You were great," I complimented Totodile. "Now, rest up for the battle round." I returned the creature, tucking away the Pokéball.

I watched the screen for a moment, seeing the next coordinator showing off his Politoed's own Water Gun, although it looked pitiable compared to Totodile's previous moves. There were only seven more entries to go, and out of the full eighteen, only eight were being chosen to break into four separate battles.

I folded my arms, leaning my weight onto my side as I further watched the Appeal. The crowd seemed fascinated by it, but the levels of cheers were not matching the ones I received. I surely hoped my darling Maximus wasn't cheering for this pathetic display! Better yet, I really hoped he hadn't cheered for anyone _but me._ Knowing Max, he probably did, because he was sweet like that, but it still bothered me. I also had to wonder who the hell was sitting next to him, too, and if Max was wasting his time communicating with them.

I let out a huff, bothered by my possessiveness. Max wasn't some uncontrollable jezebel, so I wasn't sure why I was getting so heated by the idea of him simply conversing with a fellow audience member. Maybe it was just the fact Max might've been letting his attention dawdle on that conversation and not _me._

"This may be the first time your Appeal wasn't meant to threaten another contestant, Harley."

It was not Max who said that.

Startled, I immediately turned, recognizing the voice but not even believing for _a second _it could possibly belong to the person I thought. And, so, I blinked several times when I faced the other direction, seeing the familiar face of the annoying, stuck-up prep of a boy named Drew. My lighthearted mood instantly decreased, and I found myself speechless.

"I wasn't expecting you here either," Drew said, as if I had already revealed my surprise verbally.

Ugh, and the fucking brat looked exactly the same since the last time I had seen him. He was taller, of course, and he seemed to have grown out in his shoulders and facial structure, but _jeesh, _he carried himself in all the same manner: hands in pockets, hair covering half of his eyes, dressed in his overly trendy purple jacket and jeans.

I kept my arms folded as I switched my weight over to my right leg and sighed heavily. "And, here I thought May and you had reunited and were happily wed with about a dozen children." I sneered at the lad, seeing a quick reaction from the comment before it disappeared in an attempt to seem unaffected. Even now it was quite obvious to me that May had been the one to break-up with Drew.

"I'm surprised to see you back in Johto, especially after not even a year passing since you were last here." Drew rose an eyebrow curiously, but there was nothing malicious in his tone.

"I'm here because I like it," I decided to say. "But, I suppose I could ask you the same thing."

Drew's expression changed, now appearing very much confused. "I'm not here to participate in the Contest—I'm one of the students in training for judging."

Now _this _was a surprise. Drew had thrown in his coordinator towel rather soon. I saw no reason, to be honest. As much as I hated to admit it, he wasn't a bad coordinator, so there was no reason for him to want to steer away from entering Contests.

"Don't be ridiculous, Harley. I'm still entering Contests, just not as often."

"You read my mind," I admitted. "But, why the fuck would you want to be one of these lazy judges?"

"Those lazy judges gave you a favorable score," he told me. "I still enjoy Contests, but I want to do something different. It seemed like a good choice so I wouldn't have to stop being involved in Contests."

I shrugged, uninterested now. "Well, I am not going to ask how you're doing, because frankly, I do not care. I was doing quite well not running into you at every fucking Contest."

"Then you must be rather lonely, as May and I were the closest things to friends that you ever had."

I laughed, throwing my head back in amusement. "As far as you know," I said, mischief in my tone. I carried myself much slyer now, smirking knowingly and raising my eyebrows as I revealed, "I'll have you know that I'm not by myself today."

Drew flipped his hair back in his trademark preppy way, and I could sense he was about to say something snide. I was ready to reveal the truth about little Maximus with me today, but as if on cue, the boy appeared in the entryway of the room, keeping his word on coming to see me after my Appeal. Suddenly, however, the full revelation of what seeing Drew would bring smacked me in the face. I realized immediately that there was no way around the situation, and the discovery of Max and I was almost inevitable.

And, yet, Max didn't even see Drew as he rushed up to me, a wide and almost ignorantly blissful smile on his face, completely dismissing who I might be talking to at the moment.

"Harley, you got the highest score so far!" he exclaimed. "Totodile was great!"

Instead of looking at Max, I ended up staring at Drew. And, instead of giving a shocked and embarrassed look like I _should've _given, I smirked. It only took a second for Max's eyes to glance over to Drew, a quick realization that I was talking to someone.

"D-Drew!" he shouted, shocked and embarrassed like I should've felt. Color rose to Max's face, red and bright as his mind raced through the possible excuses he could give for why he was with me, why we were obviously getting along, and why he could possibly be blushing.

It was Drew who seemed the most shocked out of all of us though. His eyes widened, and he gaped widely as he tried to piece _something _together. I could tell he was taking my smirk and Max's compliment on my Appeal into the consideration. He then blinked and raised an eyebrow as if not even _believing _any of this at all.

"Max…" he voiced, half-puzzled. "What are _you _doing here?"

Knowing Max was never going to be able to formulate a sentence, I answered, "Why, he's here for me." I smirked again. "He's cheering for me."

Drew's mouth remained open. His eyes wandered over to me, then back at Max. Max's silence was good enough evidence to Drew's thoughts, but still, the preppy bastard of a boy said nothing.

"Um… I…" Max stuttered, trying to say something, although I wasn't sure why he was even bothering. "I haven't seen you in years, Drew," he finally succeeded in a shaky tone.

"Yeah, you haven't," Drew agreed. "How's May?"

Max narrowed his eyes. "Fine," he just said. "So, um… I…"

Drew cut him off, finally just asking, "Is there any sane reason why you're hanging around _Harley_?"

"Of course there is!" I shouted. I placed a hand on Max's shoulder. "You see, Max and I have become _quite _the friends."

"Harley…" the boy warned lowly, giving me an angered look. It didn't help the situation though.

It took a moment for Drew to respond. He kept looking at Max and I individually. There was a quick flash of disgust, then a moment later, confusion. He finally gathered himself together and said, "I'm not sure what it takes for Harley to consider you a _friend, _Max, but my advice would be to stop spending your time with him."

"Don't be ridiculous," I told him, putting a hand up. "I'll have you know Max _wants _to spend time with me."

Drew rose an eyebrow at Max, still talking only to him. "Why?" he wondered. "Harley's, like, thirty years-old."

"Excuse me!" I shouted. "I'm twenty-four, and this is none of your fucking business anyway!"

Drew shook his head, giving a smile of disbelief. "Harley, you're disgusting." He kept a fully sickened expression on his face as he finally seemed to allow himself to face the truth. "There are goddamn _laws _about this sort of thing, you pervert."

Max suddenly perked up, not seeming too thrilled by Drew's comment. "Drew, it's not like that," he defended, biting his bottom lip afterward.

"Really?" he wondered. He then looked at me. "Then what is it, _Harley_? Why else would you want a boy his age hanging around you?"

"Drew's right," I droned, "I just can't function without good, sweet little boy ass."

"Stop, Harley!" Max grunted. "That's not helping."

"Neither is your blushing little face, Max." I sighed loudly. "Let's face it, you and I have been discovered." I grinned, mostly for show, and I watched Drew express another disgusted look.

"I shouldn't even be surprised," he stated, rolling his eyes.

I stifled a laugh, having to turn away in a true amusement. I then looked at Max, seeing he was bright red all over again. "I could give you some details about a few things, but for the sake of Max, I won't."

"Yeah, I'm sure Max's feelings are top priority for you," Drew grunted. "I can guess you haven't told May you've been hanging around with _him,_" he then said to Max.

An overly loud and different cheer came from the screen and the announcer excitedly revealed that the last entry had finished his Appeal. Having been chatting with the oh-so friendly Drew, I hadn't watched any of them, but the pictures of the eight coordinators going to the second round soon popped up, and I was proudly still the top score. I grinned, turning to Drew and continuing the beam of delight, showing off.

The screen then displayed the four battle pairs. I was matched up with the redhead and her Vulpix, which proved to already be in my favor, as Totodile was a Water-type. Thankfully, my battle wasn't up at the moment, so I still had time to continue on this glorious conversation with Drew.

"Congratulations," Max lowly said to me, and although he tried to say it so it wasn't entirely obvious to Drew, it was unavoidable to hear. What was even more unavoidable, was the small smile that graced Max's face, honest and sincere just for me.

"Thank you, _darling,_" I said, brushing his cheek with the back of my hand. I did this for show, but I also meant a lot of it, as Max's soft and adorable praise made me a bit giddy.

"I think I'm going to vomit," Drew stated. "Max, you're a whole lot smarter than this, so why on earth are you falling for this garbage?"

"You don't understand, Drew," Max quickly said, and for the first time since the reunion began, his voice was strong.

"You're right, I don't," Drew admitted. "But, Max, you're a smart kid. You can't possibly be oblivious to what a man Harley's age might want from you."

"_Obviously,_" I droned. "Has it ever occurred to you little Maximus here could be overly aware—"

"Harley, I think I should go back to my seat," Max interrupted.

I took a look at the screen, seeing that on the scorecard, the battle was almost over with three minutes left on the clock. "Maybe Drew and you can continue this little chat," I suggested, grinning at the prep. I ran my fingers down Max's face, but the boy backed away rather quickly, making his way out of the room.

Drew looked at me for several seconds after Max left. "So, what kind of propaganda did you use to get Max at ease around you?"

"None," I said, raising my arms in innocence. "Max just happens to like me _a lot._"

"And, I'm sure you like him, too."

"How'd you guess?" I wondered sarcastically. "A faunlet like that doesn't come around every day, you know."

"A faunlet," Drew mused. "You know, maybe I'm just ignorant, but even though I could see you pulling a stunt like this to piss off May, I have a hard time believing you _truly _want anything to do with a boy Max's age."

I gave an innocent look. "I thought you said you weren't surprised."

"I guess I can't wrap my mind around why anyone would want to…" He grimaced, shaking his head and deciding to let his sentence go.

"Well, I could say the same about May and you," I told him in annoyance. "Although, I'll put good money on my relationship with Max being far more _intimate _than May and yours."

The color drained out of Drew's face, and he turned away from me, revolted. "I should report you, you goddamn rapist."

I snorted. "Go ask Max about it," I suggested. "Because I'm sure his side of the story is just the same as mine."

"Yeah, and what's your story?"

"Everything between Max and I has been consensual, and moreover, Max is with me by his own freewill." I smiled thoughtfully.

xxxxx

_-Max-_

As I sat back down in my seat, I pushed my face into my hands, sighing heavily and completely ignoring the battle onstage. I couldn't believe it—I just _couldn't._ Why, _why _out of all the Contests going on in the world did Drew have to be attending the same one as Harley? I just couldn't believe my bad luck. I never even thought about it; I never even considered it! Yet, none of this would've been nearly as bad if Harley hadn't provoked the truth about his relationship with me.

Still, it was _so like _Harley to flaunt this in Drew's face. Harley had stated our relationship was no one's business but ours—and he _had _pointed this out to Drew, too—but the man's dislike for Drew had gotten the best of him, and I knew that he wanted to mess with his head as best he could. I was mad at Harley for that, but the way Drew suggested Harley was some… some _creep_… Well, it sincerely angered me. He made it seem like it was impossible for me to comprehend anything for myself, like I was stupid and unaware.

But, this was unavoidable now, and I had to deal with it. I watched the stage, realizing the battle was over, and the Contestant with the Swellow had been victorious over the Yanma. Next was Harley's battle. I wished I had told Harley good luck or something, but with Drew around, it slipped my mind. Harley was battling against a Vulpix though, and I knew he would do just fine.

"Max, is it all right if I sit next to you?"

I looked up, seeing Drew standing the aisle. I blinked several times, surprised by his appearance here in the crowd. I was unsure what to say at first, scared Drew might be preparing himself to say I was a complete idiot or preparing himself to judge Harley even more. But, again, this was unavoidable, and I figured maybe the best thing I could do _was _talk to Drew about it and try to get him to understand.

"Um, sure," I said, moving down a seat so he could sit in mine.

"I know the two of us never really talked," Drew admitted as he sat, "but you're May's brother, and this _situation _isn't settling well with me."

"Why not?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the stage as the redheaded female came out, waving to the crowd.

"You know why," he said. "You can't sit here and deny that the morality of all of this never crossed your mind."

"It did, but there's nothing wrong with it," I stated angrily.

Just then, Harley came out from the other side of the stage. He waved to the crowd just the same, quickly releasing Totodile onto the battlefield. The full and untouched bars showed up on the scorecard and the battle began at the sound of a siren. I couldn't get myself to clap or cheer for the man though. I felt too watched by Drew to even move.

"Nothing wrong with it?" Drew echoed. "Tell me, did Harley say that to you?"

"Well, yeah, but I believe it," I told him. "I don't really expect you to accept it, because I've already concluded everyone's reactions anyway."

"Everyone's reactions are completely justifiable," Drew told me. "He's twelve years older than you."

"My birthday is in two days," I admitted. "So, I'll be thirteen."

"Is that supposed to make it any better? Turning thirteen only makes it more obvious how young you are." Drew folded his arms in dismay. "Harley's taking advantage of you."

"It's really not like that."

"You keep saying that," Drew voiced, "but what does it mean?"

"It means that… that I like… him." I sighed heavily, feeling myself turn red. "I like Harley, okay?" I closed my eyes for a moment, reopening them when I heard Harley's voice over the crowd of people, ordering Totodile to use Tackle and then Water Gun. His Totodile was a lot quicker than Vulpix, and I knew I would be on the edge of my seat during this battle if it weren't for Drew.

"Max, he hasn't _really _done anything to you, right?" Drew then asked.

I couldn't answer that. I couldn't. It was none of his business, and it wasn't in me to ever discuss that with someone else. But, the silence was all too revealing anyhow, and I heard Drew curse under his breath, disgusted and alarmed.

"Does May know about you and him?"

"No," I quickly answered. "I haven't talked to her in a while, and I don't plan on telling her anyway."

"Why not?" he wondered.

I furrowed my brow. "It's none of her business. And, if your reaction is this bad, imagine how she'll react."

Onstage, Vulpix had used Quick Attack on Totodile, but the blue creature had countered with a whirl of Ice Beam and Tackle. The redheaded coordinator was starting to fret, knowing more than anyone that her Pokémon was at a huge disadvantage.

"How did this even start, Max?"

I shrugged. "We ran into each other in Goldenrod City not that long ago. It just sort of happened."

"He prompted it, I'm sure," Drew said, not making it a question. "Listen, I know Harley's a fag, but you're too young to know whether or not you like men, so I find it hard to believe you actually _like _Harley."

"Well… Harley and I had that conversation," I revealed. "And, we had a lot of conversations about what our relationship meant, too. I mean, sometimes I think Harley's a little weird and stuff, but I wouldn't allow him to do anything to me if I didn't want it to happen." And, I meant it, too. Recalling how Harley wanted my consent before we had taken anything a step further, I knew that the man was not as vicious and selfish as he appeared.

"Are you telling me that Harley really, truly has done more than just _touch _you?"

I was slightly surprised by this statement. I thought he had already concluded that, but apparently, his earlier question hadn't involved anything more than simple intimacy.

"Harley wasn't lying then," Drew confirmed. "You two have actually slept together."

"Drew!" I shouted, my face burning red. "You make it sound like he's some sicko, but… but, he asked me before anything happened! He wanted my permission before he actually did it!"

"Then why the hell did you say yes, Max?" Drew barked, giving me the most dumbfounded look. "Moreover, how the hell could you actually enjoy something like that, especially from a man like Harley? You're not even old enough to know what you want!"

"What about May and you?" I demanded. "You two were around the same age when you started dating, so how is this any different?"

"Harley's double your age, and did you forget the sort of things he did to May?"

"No, I haven't! But, I'm over that, and I'm sure May would say the same thing. It's been years since Harley plotted against her." I pursed my lips, amazed by how angry I was becoming with this argument.

"What else do Harley and you do besides _that_?" Drew asked. "Because, I have a feeling that's all there is to your relationship."

"No, it isn't…" I murmured. "We've traveled around, we've battled, we've gone out and fished, we've talked about so many things, and we've… we've begun to get along really well. It can't be any different than May and you."

Drew rolled his eyes. Then, the guy seemed a bit puzzled, asking, "Traveled around? Harley stays at hotels, doesn't he?"

"Yeah, but before we came here, I managed to talk him into camping out." I wasn't sure why I had included the latter detail, but I supposed that I wanted to prove to Drew that Harley wasn't in full dictation.

"Backstage, Harley called you _faunlet._ Does that really sound like someone who cares about your well-being?"

"Harley always calls me that," I admitted. "There's nothing wrong with it. He's just joking around."

"Is he?" he wondered. "Because, Max, it sounds as though he treats you more like a kept doll rather than anything else."

I wasn't sure how to answer that, so instead, I said, "I really do like him, Drew. He makes me feel different, and I like _that, _too. It's not just about one thing. I have company now, and he's fun to be around."

Just as I finished my sentence, the signal siren went off on the stage, revealing that Vulpix had fainted. I was disappointed to have missed most of the battle, but nonetheless, I was glad Harley had won. Despite that, I had no energy to get up and see Harley again backstage. Drew would undoubtedly follow, and I wasn't sure I could handle that again. So, I sat still, waiting for Drew to comment on my statement.

"You claim he _asked _you before anything happened," Drew voiced, "but exactly how did he breach the conversation? I doubt he just asked about it. He must've been suggestive beforehand."

I narrowed my eyes as the next battle started between a Zubat and a Trapinch. "Well," I began shakily, "Harley did, um, flirt with me, if that's what you're asking."

"And, then he just asked you?"

"He kissed me," I confessed. "He told me he liked me and that… that I was…" I paused, recalling how he had called me "tempting" and had even alluded to _me _being the one to provoke his feelings. He had, in fact, said several rather weird things to me, some of which I never heard again, others in which never stopped. But, I remembered saying no… and I remembered how he went ahead and did it anyway.

"That you were what?"

Even though I had said no back then, part of me really wanted it, so I could see what would happen and what it would feel like. I knew that Harley must have known that, too, otherwise, I truly couldn't see him taking advantage of me. If he hadn't cared, he would've done more without my consent. Why didn't Drew understand that?

I ignored Drew's question, simply telling him, "Before anything more happened, Harley and I talked about it. He made me feel comfortable, and he never tried to do anything without my consent."

"Really, so you've never said _no_ to him?"

"If I really wanted him to stop, I would make him," I told Drew. Harley had said it to me a million times, and it was only until now that I realized it was true. I had never screamed for him to stop something, never even raising my voice more than a grunt or exclamation. My rejections were soft, and most of the time, excuses. "He _always _asks if I'm okay. He cares."

"Max," Drew said, and he sounded very uncomfortable, "if you don't mind me asking, how many times have you actually slept with him?"

I jerked in surprise and automatically turned red. "Drew, that's not your business!"

"Well, when someone's as young as yourself, it's sort of everyone's business," Drew countered. "This would be different if it was with another boy your age, but it's with a twenty-four year-old man, and he has a reputation for being catty and manipulative."

"Well, I don't know," I lied, not wanting to tell him the truth.

"You lost count?"

"_No_!" I hollered in panic. "I just don't feel like telling you something like that."

"Does it really bother you to talk about something you've done already?" Drew inquired. "Because it shouldn't. If you've done it, there shouldn't be a problem with discussing it. Apparently you've discussed it with Harley anyway."

"Talking about it with Harley is different," I affirmed. "I used to feel uncomfortable when I first met up with him in Goldenrod City, but I don't anymore. I've grown to… trust him. He doesn't give me any reasons _not to_ trust him."

"Something is off here," Drew debated. "You're not telling me something."

"I'm not telling you a lot of things, because it's not your business," I snapped. "I know when someone's taking advantage of me, and this _isn't _it. Harley has been supportive, and he's done a lot for me."

"Like _what_?"

"Like come to my Gym Battles and help me train, and he even listened to me when I told him he should enter this Contest!"

"Max," Drew began, "I need to go back to training panel now, but I'll see you after the Contest, okay?"

"I don't even think I want to talk to you again, Drew," I said bitterly. "You think I'm a retard or something just because I'm young. I know how to read people, and when I read Harley, it's very rare I see something malicious in him these days."

"You almost sound like a petty little woman who is _so sure _she can change her man," Drew stated dully. "Harley's still the same man he was years ago. He's sick, and he still hates your sister, and I'm sure he's not too fond of anything about you, albeit the sex."

"Drew…"

"Max, I'm sorry, but there's something obviously wrong when a man his age decides to sleep with a twelve year-old." He sighed heavily, standing up. "I'll see you later." Drew turned, walking back up the stairs and towards the back of the bleachers.

I sat there, not even bothering to take in the scenery on the battlefield. I wasn't even sure what to do now. I felt so enraged by Drew's comments. He had twisted everything just to fit his own judgment. I couldn't believe that he actually sat there and fought me on something he knew nothing about! He didn't know Harley the same way I did now, and more importantly, he didn't even know _me. _What went on between Harley and I was our business, and yet he sat there and asked me how many times we had sex! And, he called _Harley_ sick?

I closed my eyes, trying to collect my thoughts as the current battle ended and the crowd cheered for the coordinator and his Zubat. My stomach was churning, and my head hurt. If facing Drew with the truth about my relationship with Harley was _this _bad, then what would happen if May actually learned about it? I had never talked or interacted with Drew that much, yet he concerned himself in my business as if he had the right. I wasn't sure if he was still in touch with May, but what if he was? What if he was still friends with her and felt the need to inform May about all of this? If she found out—if she found out from someone else, especially—I would just _die._ I couldn't face May's judgment.

Lost in my thoughts, I let the next battle simply fly by, and I took in very little besides the fact it was between a Mawile and a Marill. The Mawile had won, it seemed, and now, with two pairs of battles coming up, Harley either was either going to be battling the Mawile, the Swellow or the Zubat. I wondered, distantly, if Harley was waiting for me come visit him backstage. I hoped not, but if so, I hoped that he perhaps he understood why I failed to show. He must have suspected Drew followed me, prying for more information. If Drew really had the intention to talk to me more after the Contest, he was crazy. Why on earth did he think I would ever want to speak with him again?

On the scoreboard, the screen changed to reveal which trainers would be battling together. Harley was paired with the Swellow and its female trainer. I sunk further into my seat, letting out a very long exhale and staring up at the ceiling.

'_Max, I'm sorry, but there's something obviously wrong when a man his age decides to sleep with a twelve year-old.'_

Was what he said true? Was it really wrong for Harley to want me the way he did? Everyone had preferences, and not everyone was drawn to the same thing others were, so how was Harley's attraction to younger men and boys really considered "wrong" in Drew's eyes? And, did that mean there was something wrong with me? Before, I had denied what Harley said about me being attracted to older men, but what if it was true? I had, in fact, never been too interested in kids my age, whether they were male or female. Harley was the only one, and if I was forced to picture myself with someone else, I supposed it would be with someone older.

May and Drew… Well, they seemed so normal as a couple, maybe even _too normal. _They were the same age, the opposite sex, and they appeared to balance each other well as far as personalities went. It was almost like Harley and I were the polar opposite of that. Yet, none of this ever bothered me too much before, so why—_why!_—did Drew have to show up and cause me to suddenly feel so unsure about everything?

Onstage, the lights brightened, and Harley's battle was about to begin. I pushed my thoughts aside, promising myself I would just relax and enjoy the next battle for the sake of my sanity. Thankfully, when Harley walked out on stage, my nerves calmed, and watching him confidently stand in the opponent box actually made me smile. He was all the way over there, and I was way off in the audience, but I felt so connected to him all the sudden. Unlike Drew, I knew Harley in a different way: he had told me about his family, his training, his Pokémon, his likes and dislikes, and even some of his "acquaintances." Drew knew nothing about Harley. Nothing.

The black-haired female showed up on the other side of the battlefield. She released her Swellow quickly, and the battle instantly began. I watched as Swellow gained a fierce amount of height in the air, steering clear of Totodile way down on the floor. Harley ordered the crocodile to use Hydro Pump, pushing the water down on the ground and sending itself up into the air to follow Swellow.

"Totodile," I heard Harley shout, "use Scary Face!"

Totodile scrambled his pleasant, cute expression into an intimidating stare. It sent a shiver down Swellow's body, causing the bird to lose height and fly down a bit. Totodile landed back on the ground, using Hydro Pump over again, but this time, sending it up into the air and right onto Swellow. The dark bird was forced to land on the ground, too, but its trainer ordered a Quick Attack, and Swellow was fast enough to force the attack on Totodile.

As Totodile was commanded to use Tackle, I remembered some of Harley's comments on how I appeared when battling. Curious myself, I looked over at Harley, taking in the sight of him fully concentrated on the battle: his brow creased just like mine always was during matches and his jaw firmly clenched. Unlike me, however, Harley appeared much calmer. He had a hand on his hip, leaning his weight over to his left and his other arm dangling to his side nonchalantly. Harley looked so carefree, and I realized that as campy as Harley acted, it was very common for him to simply appear calm and relaxed, especially when he had a cigarette in his hand.

I did notice Harley's hair was a bit disheveled, most likely caused from his withheld nerves forcing him to run his fingers through his hair in a fidgety manner. Beneath his hat though, his hair looked very nice, and I couldn't help smile softly at the memory of what it smelt like: lavender-y, cleansed, sweet. I knew that my stare was similar to the stares Harley gave me, and I wondered if these were the sort of things Harley thought about when he kept his eye on me so oddly.

The siren rang, and the battle was over. Neither Pokémon had fainted, but as I glanced over at the scoreboard, it was completely obvious Harley had won. His point bar was more than halfway full, while the opponent's was less than a quarter. I cheered loudly along with everyone else, clapping as much as I could before both Harley and the female left the stage and preparations were made for the second battle.

I stood up and left my seat. I wanted to see Harley now, and I had to admit I didn't care much for the next battle. As I left the seating area, I found myself wondering where Drew had gone. He probably had something to observe in his training, and I was actually glad he had left, so I didn't have to carry on such a humiliating conversation. Eventually, I reached the room and walked inside, seeing it was still pretty packed despite the fact only three coordinators were still in the Contest.

I spotted Harley sitting down on a long cushioned seat, his eyes locked on the screen as he watched the battle. Totodile was out of its ball, sitting next to him and obviously resting up for the final round of the Contest.

I found myself walking slowly over to the man. When I reached him, I gaped a few times, unable to make a noise to get his attention. Harley felt my presence away from his sight and turned, and his deadpanned expression brightened before he stood up and smiled widely.

"Well, hello, darling!" he exclaimed, folding his hands together. "Glad to see you haven't run off."

I shook my head. "Of course I didn't run off," I said. "Drew's not _that_ intimidating."

Harley pursed his lips for a moment. "I hope you're not taking what he said seriously."

"How do you know what he said?" I wondered.

"I figured he went to chase you down once he left here," Harley revealed. "And, I'm pretty sure he said some pretty lousy things."

I gave a short sigh. "Something like that," I grunted, sitting down. "I _do _feel really humiliated, just to let you know."

Harley copied me and sat down as well. He put an arm around me, leaning into the side of my face and whispering, "Don't let it get to you. He's a wacko, that kid."

"He'd say the same about you. In fact, he _did._" I rolled my eyes. "He said you were sick."

"I have been accused of that time from time," Harley droned. He then looked at me, and he saw the frail look on my face, the quiver in my lip as I began to feel all the anger and hurt swell up inside me. "Max…" he said softly, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I tried my best to shake away some of the hurt, and I quickly allowed myself to say, "I'm really happy you made it to the final round." I looked up to the screen inside the room, seeing the scores from the current battle in the background. Already, the Zubat was in bad shape, and although there was a minute left in the battle, it was pretty obvious the male trainer and his Mawile were going to win.

"Thank you," Harley sincerely spoke, running his hands through my bangs. "Though, you know, I'm normally not known for my unselfish favors, but I am a bit more worried about you at this point."

"Don't be," I urged. "Just worry about the Contest—that's more important right now. I want you to win—_now _more than ever, just to prove something to Drew."

Harley laughed, grinning insanely before he leaned in and sneaked a hard, firm kiss on my lips. "If only you acted this cunning more often, then we'd make quite the partners in crime."

I tried my best to smile at his words, but it was really the kiss that brought the beam to my face. I sort of wanted to hug him, breathe in his scent and feel his warm chest against my cheek. It wasn't really the time, nor the place; but, the desire was strong, and I think the longing in my eye caught Harley's attention, because he wrapped a comforting arm around me, bringing me close.

"Darling," he started, rubbing his hand up and down my upper-arm, "there's no one out there who's going to keep me from ravishing my little Maximus the way I want to, okay?"

I rolled my eyes, but nonetheless, he made me feel better. I then whirled around when I heard the siren go off, seeing the battle was complete and that Mawile had won just as I suspected. "I guess that's your next opponent," I commented as the camera focused in the male trainer, who looked a lot older than Harley.

"Any advice from my Maximus?" the man wondered, pushing his face against my hair.

I shrugged. "I think you'll do fine with or without my advice," I admitted. "I should go now."

"No, no!" Harley argued. "Stay back here! No one will care! Besides, I want to see you right away when I win!" The man rose his eyebrows high and posed before turning to summon Totodile back in its ball.

"Harley, can I just ask you one thing before you go?" I said softly.

The man shrugged.

"Um, are there really, like, laws about you and me… together?"

Harley gave a scoff. "The same way there's laws about murdering people, because no one really _has to _find out unless you're stupid about it."

"Flaunting the facts in front of Drew might be considered stupid."

"It could be, yes," he voiced with a shrug, "but _he's_ also rather stupid, and I doubt he'd be able to steer his mind away from the 'disgusting' aspects of our relationship long enough to actually do something about putting those laws into motion." He stood up, holding Totodile's Pokéball tightly in his hand and he began to walk off. The man made sure to turn around and give me a small wave and smile though.

I turned all the way around in the seat, facing the screen properly. I was forced to turn around again, however, when I felt a hovering figure behind me. Just as I suspected, someone was there, but unfortunately it was not anyone I wanted to see it. It was Drew. Again.

I ended up glaring at him. "What do you want?" I demanded bitterly.

"I figured you came back here," he voiced, not bothering to answer my question. "Harley might just win if he can keep his mind focused."

"Well, May's not here to get him all frustrated and set on revenge," I pointed out.

"Yeah, but I'm here," Drew noted. He paused, but continued shortly after, saying, "Anyway, I'm done with my assignment, so if you want to leave with me, you can."

I furrowed my brow. "Why would I want to leave?" I asked. "Harley's final battle is coming up." I looked at the screen, watching as the judges went back and forth discussing the aspects of the previous battle and then their predictions for the upcoming.

"Sheesh," Drew muttered, along with something else, which I didn't catch. "I suppose you came back here to complain to Harley the unjust accusations I spoke of."

I ended up nodding my head, getting a quick view of the entire room around us, and realizing that most of the occupants had left. "Obviously," I answered. "I think you're overacting, really."

Drew sat down in Harley's previous seat and crossed his arms. "I just want you to think back to when Harley first made it obvious he, as you say, _liked _you. I mean, how was it not completely fucked up?"

I narrowed my eyes. "It was weird at first," I admitted, "especially because I've never even been kissed by someone who wasn't my family. So, yeah, I was freaked out, but then as time went by, I realized I liked Harley, and I liked—"

Drew interrupted me with: "_Liked _what? Him molesting you, taking your _virginity, _screwing with your head and then making up lies to keep you from freaking out?"

"That's not what our relationship is like."

"Your relationship?" Drew echoed. "You almost sound like you truly believe that's what it is, a _relationship. _Truthfully, Max, it's not anything but a benefit to Harley and negativity to your future. He's _molesting _you."

"No," I firmly grunted, "_he's not._ As far as I know, child molesters normally don't ask before they do it!"

Drew laughed cruelly and shook his head in disagreement. "Consent or not—however he got it, at that—Harley's still fucking a twelve year-old, and that, Max, is a child molester."

"We're here now with the final two participants in the Olivine City Pokémon Contest!" came the loud, overly obvious shout from the screen. The announcer waved her hands around, gesturing here and there as the crowd cheered loudly, excited and anxious to have a winner.

Soon, Harley and the other man appeared on the stage. It wasn't long before they threw their Pokéballs and both Totodile and Mawile were presented on the battlefield, ready and pumped for battle. I stared at the screen intently, watching the judges speak momentarily before the camera returned to the battle, which was already underway. Totodile was spurting out a whirl of Water Gun, while Mawile was sweeping its long head sash up and over, slamming it into the crocodile's face and following up with a gruff Vicegrip.

"Totodile, get Mawile with your Bite!" Harley ordered. He sounded so different than when he was with me, so authoritative and professional that it almost seemed like he was in an entirely different zone. He was fully concentrated and professional, and the difference made me smile.

This Mawile, unlike some I had seen in the past, was rather slow. Its small feet kept it from rushing in various directions as it used a sense of agility. It did not take long for Totodile to conquer the Pokémon even more by sinking his sharp, long teeth into Mawile's side. Harley's opponent soon commanded Mawile to use Fake Tears, but it seemed the cries coming from the small Pokémon's throat were sincere, and I felt bad that Totodile was being so rough.

"Don't fall for it!" Harley advised. "Use Hydro Pump!"

The blue creature didn't give Mawile another look. Instead, Totodile bounced up, forcing out several bursts of water onto its opponent. Mawile slid against the battlefield, struggling to keep standing. I clenched my fists tightly as I watched the scoreboard in the background, seeing the points decrease a bit at a time. Harley was in the lead, but he was still losing points with each attack Mawile managed to inflict.

A close-up of Harley revealed he had his jaw clenched, teeth gritting and all. "Keep using Hydro Pump!"

I felt the same nervousness that Harley did, especially when I realized the clock was down to two minutes and thirty seconds. I was forced to look away from the screen, fearing that if I continued to watch the battle as intensely as I was, I'd die of anxiety. As I breathed heavily, I felt Drew's eyes on me, so I turned, furrowing my brow deeply.

"Stop looking at me," I growled.

Drew listened, but he voiced, "You want him to win." He paused for a moment, crooking his bottom lip to the left. "You want him to win the same way you used to want May to win back in Hoenn and Kanto."

I gave Drew a dumb look, forcing out the obviousness of his first statement. But, when he had continued, I let the expression fade away, and I managed to nod. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't, Drew," I admitted.

Drew gave my thigh an assuring pat, which bothered me greatly, as Harley had done the same thing in a much more intimate, seductive way. Drew must have sensed this, too, because he let his eyes close just a bit, suspiciously. I allowed myself to stare back at the screen, just to avoid Drew's eye-contact, and I saw Totodile giving a very successful Scary Face, causing Mawile to shiver in fear.

"How long do you intend on staying with Harley?"

I looked up at Drew—again—and rose an eyebrow. How long? How was _I _supposed to know? People don't plan that sort of thing out, and more importantly, Drew made it sound so... so unconventional. I was certain Drew never once thought about that sort of thing when he was dating my sister.

Drew was impatient with the answer, so he began talking again, claiming, "Harley and I once had a talk, long ago."

I found that hard to believe, so I replied, "About _what_? And, _when_?"

"Long before he decided to play with twelve year-olds," he snidely remarked. "Did he ever tell you about the Contest I beat him in?"

"Yeah, briefly," I revealed. "He wasn't really thrilled to talk about that though."

Drew gave a sly grin, obviously proud of his success in that particular Contest. "He wasn't very happy at all, so afterwards he made an attempt to get back at me by rubbing in my face how… May and I weren't really speaking…"

I blinked, wondering why Drew would ever admit something like this, especially when it involved his break-up with May. "Yeah, so?" I wondered, giving an odd expression.

"I threw back that he was a fag—which he is, quite obviously—and he admitted to something that, to this very day, makes me laugh." The boy smiled, his eyes slightly rolled back as he seemed to remember something.

"What?" I demanded, very suspicious.

"I suppose you've heard of Lance, haven't you? From the Elite Four?"

I scoffed loudly. "What does he have to do with any of this?"

Drew rose his eyebrows. "Harley and him slept together," he said matter-of-factly. "I bet Harley never told you that."

Puzzled, I kept looking at Drew with utter disbelief. I was about to tell him he was a liar, a complete and utter storyteller, who was making things up just to try and stir up trouble between Harley and me. But, there was sincerity in his tone and his amusement was also very honest. I had no idea what to say. It wasn't the fact Harley had slept with someone else—I knew he had plenty of experience with random men—but, someone I knew, and more importantly, someone as prestigious as _Lance _of the _Elite Four _made me really confused. How was that even possible?

Then it suddenly came back to me: the time I tried to tell Harley about Team Aqua and Team Magma, and I brought up Lance. Harley had become very stiff, and he threw off my entire story, interrupting me and offering _ice cream, _of all things. He even went back to criticizing the Elite Four later on, seeming very bitter about them. I gaped for a moment, looking in various directions before I heard the loud buzzer go off, indicating the end of the battle. I shot my eyes up to the screen, horrified at the thought that I missed the battle and that Harley had lost.

But, he didn't. The first glimpse of the screen brought a focus of Harley, and in the background, I saw the scoreboard indicating Harley was victorious with his Totodile. My puzzlement washed away, and despite the revelation that Drew brought, I stood up, cheering loudly.

"Yes!" I yelled. "Yes, he won! He won!"

It was Drew's turn to furrow his brow. In fact, I swore he must have been more confused than I was a moment ago. He stood up himself, rolling his eyes and grunting, "You're completely taken under by Harley."

This snapped me out of my mood, and back to my focus on the issue of Lance. I gave a very small shrug in Drew's direction. "I know Harley's been with other people," I confessed. "I know he's been with _men_, too, not just younger guys."

"Well, I don't doubt he sleeps around a lot, Max, but I think his relationship with Lance was just that: a _relationship. _It wasn't just a single frolic in the sheets—it was more. And, I think his failure to tell you that means something."

"No, it doesn't," I argued bitterly. "I never asked."

Drew grinned in a cruel sort of way, and he opened his mouth to give a horrid remark, I was sure, but the noise from the screen distracted both of us as Harley was awarded his ribbon. A close-up from the camera revealed the pretty, blue and gray ribbon, neatly pressed and folded into the normal trademark fashion. I was happy for a second, so relieved Harley won, but my thoughts quickly wandered back to Lance-related inquires, and a certain accusation of Harley being "sleazy" rung in my head over and over.

'_I am not fucking sleazy, you goddamn ungrateful brat!'_

I shuddered at the memory of his yell, his grimace, his complete _seriousness _in the remark. It was the one and only time I had ever heard Harley so angry—and not in his normal catty way—but in a pent-up defense. What would Harley do if I asked about his relationship with Lance?

"_Ta-da_!"

I turned at the voice, seeing Harley entering from the small doorway that led to the stage. He had his ribbon in his held in his hand, displaying it for me. I couldn't help but smile, a very similar way to when I earned a badge, and I walked over, examining it further. It was so neat and clean looking, and it sparkled in the light.

"Congratulations," I applauded once more. "Well deserved, too!" I smiled up at Harley.

"I suppose I have to agree with Max," Drew said from behind us. "You had a pretty good Appeal, Harley."

"Pah, of course I did—when _don't _I?" Harley groaned. He then bent down, embracing me by the hip and pulling me close. "I have Maximus to thank for cheering me on though. Oh, yes, I do."

With just Drew in the room, Harley had no problem pulling me even closer. Our chests fused, he soon did the same with our lips, making the kiss deep and somewhat sloppy. I felt his heart beating speedily in his chest, not changing a bit even as he turned his head, making our liplock twisty and turn-y. I eventually shut my eyes, but I heard Drew grunt in disgust, just as aware as I was that Harley was doing this for show.

When he pulled away, breaking the kiss, I asked, "Shouldn't you still be out there, onstage?"

Harley shrugged. "Perhaps, but what's the point when I have my darling Maximus to ravish back here?"

"Harley!" I shouted.

The man laughed, standing up and stroking my hair affectionately. "So, care to catch me up with what you've been telling him?" he said, directed towards Drew.

Drew scoffed. "The sort of things you haven't told him. You know, the _reality._"

Harley waved a hand up, gesturing the absurdity. "Perhaps you're just jealous Max beat you to getting laid, huh?"

I saw a slight blush creep into Drew's complexion. "I hardly envy molestation," he managed to say.

"Ah, so it's true! May never allowed you to cut the ribbon." Harley gave a long shrug, extending his arms out in an exaggerated way. He then added, "Contest pun not intentional, I swear."

"Christ, Harley, she's fifteen," Drew noted. "The fact Max is having sex is sickening enough."

Harley snorted, putting his hands on his hips and glaring. "Oh, please, if I wasn't fucking him he'd be jacking off ten times a day anyway, so what's the difference?"

"The difference is he's _twelve,_" Drew stated, "and Max isn't ready to be involved in that sort of relationship."

"You make it sound like I pin the boy down and rape him, but for your information, he _begs _for it, he moans my name, and clutches my back as he—"

"_Stop it_!" Drew snapped. "You're a worthless pedophile, and that's all there is to it, Harley."

"What does it make Max then? If I want to fuck boy-ass then I'm a pedophile, but if Max _wants _hard, hot _man_-cock, what does that make him?"

I turned red instantly, mortified to be the main subject in this conversation, especially in _that _sort of context. I wanted to tell Harley to stop talking, but he was defending me—he just happened to enjoy defending me in a very perverted, descriptive way. Besides, I hated what Drew was accusing Harley of, but I couldn't get myself to say anything back, as I was too embarrassed by what was being sent back and forth between the two.

"It makes him vulnerable," Drew declared.

This made me chime in, however. "Vulnerable?" I echoed. "I'm not _vulnerable. _I told you already, Drew—I like Harley!"

"He likes me all right," Harley agreed, but in a much more suggestive tone. "You should've seen what my boy did for me the other night—oh _yes, _now that was a nice declaration of how much he likes me."

"Harley, will you stop it?" I then commanded. "That's really not his business, and it's really, really mortifying to have other people know!"

The man shrugged, agreeing, but passing it off as if he did not care I was ordering him to be quiet. "We ought to be going anyway. I don't want to be bombarded with interviews and questions from my adoring fans," Harley said, tugging me along as he began walking out of the room.

"Take care, Max," Drew called out.

I couldn't help but turn even as Harley dragged me along. I waved a short farewell as Harley shouted "tootles," or something like that, and the two of us made our way out of the building through the back exit. I wasn't sure whether Harley truly thought he was going to be approached by someone, or if he just wanted to scram because he got his ribbon and that's all that mattered. I thought it was funny in a way, but also very greedy.

And, of course, there was still a matter of Lance, which I remained frightened to breach. I really wanted to though. I just didn't know how. The way that he had switched the subject so abruptly before I even knew about his fling with Lance hadn't phased me all that much, but now… _now _it really bothered me. I had a million questions, too! Where'd they meet? How'd it start? Why did it end? I had to admit though, I didn't feel the same sort of jealousy I felt when I had discovered all of those old phone numbers, which made no sense, because as Drew had suggested, the relationship might have been more intimate. I was a bit _bothered, _but I was also very curious.

"Darling, what's up?" Harley asked. "Is that prep's accusations still bothering you?"

I shrugged. "Sort of," I admitted. And, it was true. Drew's negativity towards Harley and me was more effective in getting me down than the Lance thing. In fact, now that the man mentioned it, a lot of the conversation was coming back, and I felt distressed all over again. "But, it's more about his actual reaction than anything he said. I mean, is that how everyone would react?"

Harley made a musing sound, considering my question. "I suppose," he admitted. "But, Max, like I said, no one's going to stop me from shagging you."

"They could," I pointed out blandly. "I just don't understand what the problem. At first, I thought the age difference was a big deal, especially my own, but it didn't even enter my mind after a while. So, what's the problem?"

"I don't know," Harley said with a shrug. "I guess it's still considered taboo, but really, why should it matter when you're so adorable?"

I rolled my eyes, letting us walk in an uneasy silence as we eventually reached the hotel. Inside, the hotel lobby was pretty packed with people coming and going, but the elevator was empty. Riding up, Harley reached into his bag and dug out his ribbon case. He placed his blue and gray ribbon inside and smiled proudly. There was another ribbon in there, but I suspected it might have been from another region.

Curious, I asked, "Where's that other one from?" I pointed to the orange and gold ribbon, lain out in a delicate, tight bow.

"Rustboro City, in Hoenn," he answered.

"You know you can't enter a Grand Festival with ribbons from different regions," I informed him, looking up at the man.

"I know that!" he yelled, glaring at me. "But, they look too pretty to be separated." He then smiled, exiting the elevator when it opened.

The two of us got into the room, which had been straightened up considerably by the maids. All the lights were off, so I turned on some of the lamps, then took off my shoes and reclined on the sofa in a miserable sort of way. I felt very worn-out because of the incident with Drew, and the pangs in my stomach were a bit similar to when after Harley had first done… _that… _to me. I was very humiliated and confused. But how did that incident compare to this with Drew finding out? And how on earth did I feel the same way?

Harley, who had disappeared off into the bedroom, eventually came out, both shoeless and hatless. He walked over to me, plopping down on the couch and grinning widely.

"He asked me if I ever said no to you," I stated, looking at Harley blankly. "I have, and I know that, but… despite saying it, I always thought you were clearly aware I was being difficult or just in denial. Did you? Or, did you truly think I was serious and just not care?"

Harley was taken back by the comment. He blinked, then narrowed his eyes. "I knew you were being difficult. You were aroused, Max, that was revealing enough. And, besides, it was quite obvious when you tried to quiet down your moans."

"So, what if I really said no to you? Like in a completely _serious _way? What would you do, Harley?"

"Then I wouldn't do anything," Harley said right away. He then added, "At least I don't think I would." The man shrugged.

I wasn't sure how to respond to that, but from the sound of it, Harley had never been in a situation where he was unsure about whether or not someone was truly saying _no._ It wasn't surprising, I guess, especially since from personal experience I knew Harley had a certain charm about him, a way that he could easily seduce someone. It had taken a few days for it to work on me, but I imagined that normally it would work a lot quicker, and he'd be able to get what he'd want from men and boys in just a few hours. I was glad I wasn't one of them though, because if I was, Harley probably wouldn't have wanted to stay with me. So, that was probably the same with Lance: the two had most likely met, become friends, and then something developed.

Still so deadly curious about this, I decided to approach the subject. I cleared my throat, and then said, "Um… Drew also said something else, which I want to know about."

"Oh? About what?" the man voiced, and he sounded just a tinsy bit worried.

"Lance," I simply said.

I watched Harley carefully, and because of this, I was able to clearly see a change in his expression. His eyes jerked for a second before returning to their normal, still position in my direction, and he let his mouth open to release a quiet sigh. He was saying nothing though, and although I already knew 100 percent that it was true, this sort of just reaffirmed it.

"I should've suspected when you cut me off that one time, when I mentioned him before," I revealed in a flip tone. "But, I didn't. It didn't even cross my mind. I have to admit, too, I'm surprised. I had no idea Lance liked men."

Harley began to laugh, but there was something phony in it. "You and me both on the latter, darling," he said, reaching out and stroking my hair. "That's long over now. Don't worry about it."

It was my turn to narrow my eyes. "Well, that was a couple of years ago when Drew and you entered that Contest, so… I guess that's true." I then shrugged. "I'm not as jealous as I would've thought I'd be though."

"I hope that doesn't mean you don't care about me anymore!" the man exclaimed, moving closer to me. "Believe me, Lance wasn't all that fun. In fact, he was sort of a bore."

"Really?" I wondered. "I hate to admit it, but I'm _really _curious about the whole thing."

Harley pressed himself against me, urging me to lie back along the arm of the couch. As he gently pushed me against it, I stared intently at him, watching as he licked his lips and gave a reminiscent look.

"I met him maybe two or three months after the Kanto Grand Festival," he started. "It was in Lavaridge, which I was passing through, and everyone there was making a big fucking deal out of an Elite Four bastard being there. I watched him battle a couple of trainers, all of which he beat. He definitely captivated me with the way he battled. Even you, Max, have to admit he's quite the looker."

I shrugged. "I met him when I was eight—I didn't really notice."

"Well, think about it now," the man urged.

So I did. I thought about how tall he was, even taller than Brock; I thought about his attire and the cape he wore; I thought about his spiky, pinkish hair; and, I thought about his Pokémon, most notably his Dragonite and Gyarados. I then shrugged, unable to really get an opinion on him.

Harley scoffed loudly, shaking his head. "He's older than _me_, Max, you should like him," he teased.

I glared up at the man. "Then why'd _you _want him if he was older?"

"I explained to you!" he exclaimed. "Warm and willing and whatnot. But, it was more about that _look _he had in his eyes. Oh, he was quite alluring. I, myself, didn't think he'd want a roll in the hay, but when I talked to him, he was the one pretty quick to start flirting with me."

I nodded, surprised by his revelations. I had such a hard time imagining Lance interested in a man, and a man like Harley at that. Then again, my attraction to Harley was unbelievable even to myself, so I supposed I couldn't deny anything.

"Anyway," Harley continued, "Lance bought me a drink, and before I knew it, we were pretty wasted and ended up fucking. Lance was pretty enthralled by _moi _so we spent the two days he was in town together… mostly in bed." He laughed like a maniac, pushing his head into my neck and chuckling endlessly.

I furrowed my brow. "That's all?" I asked. "Drew made it seem like you two were like in this huge intimate relationship."

"Did he?" the man inquired. "Well, Drew's a moron, and we both know that."

"But," I said, "did you get bored with him?"

"Sort of," he admitted. "Lance wasn't that fun of a person, and he wasn't into _anything_ kinky, so it wasn't all that exciting."

I frowned deeply. Lance always seemed so exciting and fun to me, so was Harley going to get bored with _me_? I was so average and everyday, yet the man had managed to spend almost a full week with me and he still seemed interested in everything. But what did that mean about the future? I never thought about it until Drew mentioned it, but what _was _going to happen to us in the future? I couldn't imagine this going on forever…

"Are you going to get bored with me?" I vocalized.

"Max!" the man shouted. "How could you ask a thing like that?"

"Well, if you got bored of _Lance, _you have to get bored with me. I'm not exactly on my way to becoming a part of the Elite Four. I'm just ordinary."

Harley shook his head. "Max, you're anything but ordinary. A boy like you possessing the power to get me as hard as hell—well, certainly, you're quite the rare piece of work." He shined his teeth in a grin.

"So, you do want me around for a while?" I asked.

"More than just that," Harley soothed, kissing my neck. "I want you around as long as possible, my little faunlet. But, what did I tell you before about one foot in today and tomorrow and all that nonsense?"

"I guess you're right," I agreed.

"Good. Then, you aren't jealous of yesterday's news?" Harley wondered, raising his eyebrows.

"No," I said honestly. "But, why are you so bitter towards the Elite Four and Gym Leaders and all that stuff?"

"Bitter is not _quite _the right word," Harley told me. "What bothers me about all those high-class fucks is that they—especially the Elite Four!—seem to think their rank is the be-all, end-all of life. Lance was _very strict _on having me promise I would never tell a soul about his liking for men."

I ended up scoffing. "Well, you didn't keep that promise," I pointed out.

"And, why should I?" he demanded, a sense of anger towards Lance. "If he wants to be an idol to the world, how about being honest about liking cock?"

"Is that why you said I would be surprised what Gym Leaders and Elite Four trainers do in their personal lives?"

"Yes, sort of," Harley answered, pursing his lips in a smile. "I think it's pretty lame someone so confident in a battles isn't confident enough to just admit something that isn't even that big of a deal."

"Well, I guess it's all in the eye of the beholder," I suggested. Then, something coming to mind, I turned red, extremely embarrassed. I rubbed the top of my head for a moment, slowly asking, "So… _who_ was _who_ in the relationship? I mean, like, well, _you know_…"

Harley laughed again, but this time, more insanely. "I think Lance was rather lazy, because he never wanted to do the work. Sort of like you."

"Harley!" I shouted, becoming redder.

"Hey, hey—there's nothing to be ashamed of when one prefers to be the recipient, sweet thing," he assured. "It's only when they're frigid as hell."

"I thought you said I was," I muttered, deadpanned and annoyed. "You once told me you'd appreciate some movement once and awhile."

"I was just kidding!" he said loudly. "You move around quite a bit, you little tart. Like when you wrap those legs of yours around me, _ohhh yes._" Harley felt down my leg, wrapping his hand around my calf and sliding it up and down.

"Is that what you like about me then?" I wondered, and part of me asked it just to entice him into touching me a bit more. He felt so warm and strong above me, and I was startled by the desire that flamed up inside me so suddenly.

"Not just that," the man said, stamping a kiss on my chin. "I love how goddamn tight you are, like a sweet boy your age should be, darling. And, I love how you crease your brow when I bite you. And, let's not forget how you rise your hips when I touch your cock."

I shut my eyes, allowing his hands to grip my bottom and squeeze firmly. I let out a gasp, leaning into him more. He smiled down at me, kissing me on the lips now, and soon, he began unzipping my pants, rubbing me teasingly as he did so.

"What… what else…?" I urged further, and I felt so ashamed by my desire to hear him speak of me in such a raunchy way.

Harley grinned, continuing, "Mm, the way you call my name when you come. Oh, and the way you say my name at all makes me crazy." He twisted his palm, making my developing arousal harden even more. "So, say it, Max—say my name."

"Aaah, _Harley,_" I murmured, concentrating on his enveloped hand. I then repeated his name, this time subconsciously.

Harley made a pleased sound. "I also love the way you want to see my face every time we fuck. It's ridiculously romantic."

"Romantic?" I echoed. "I don't mean it to be."

"Don't worry," he said, beginning to thrust me into his hand more as he titled his hips to ensure more pressure on my erection. "Because it's also your sweet innocence that I adore. I love how I've never heard a single dirty phrase come out of your mouth, yet you respond to the most obscene touches."

I panted loudly when his grip tightened on me, pumping quickly and firmly.

"Now," Harley began, "tell me what you love about me."

I blushed, unsure how to even say any of it. I was sure I'd sound like such a fool, unable to say anything as lustful and as sincerely as he had with me. I felt distracted by his hand's thrusts, but nonetheless, I began, telling him, "I like it when you kiss me, and when you hug me…"

Harley smiled, less lecherously and more genuinely. "Go on, darling," he suggested. He used his other hand to pull down my pants and underwear to my ankles, but all the meanwhile, he kept his hand around me, stroking up and down and occasionally teasing me with a single finger.

"And, I…" I stammered, so fully concentrated on his touches. "I… like when you don't wear your jacket," I admitted.

"Oh, you do?" he voiced, amusement all over. "Is it because I'm so fucking gorgeous?"

I ignored his complex, and continued with: "I like the way you smell, and the way you feel when you're… you're…"

"When I'm what?" he urged, slowly down his thrusts to tease me and get me to say what I was struggling to admit.

"The way you feel… when you're… _inside me_…"

Harley lolled his head back, licking his lips. "You're a fucking tart, Maximus," he said, leaning down and kissing me as he began his thrusts again, this time in a crazy speed that forced me to emit a lusty moan. "How about when I call you _Maximus—_do you like that, darling?"

I shook my head. "No, I hate that," I said firmly. "But, I like when you whisper, and when you touch me _like this._"

The man kept a smile on his face, jerking his hand up and causing me to shout his name as I came in his hand, the warmth of my release spattering into his palm and partly on my bare thighs. I leaned back against the armrest even more now, panting as I caught my breath. Harley bent down and kissed me fully on the lips as he wiped away my release on a tissue from the coffee table.

"Max," he said, "oh, Christ, you are just perfect."

"Perfect?" I breathed. "You're such an exaggerator."

"And, you're such a pessimist. Can't you take a compliment?" He straightened up my clothing, re-zipping my pants and everything before he sighed heavily. "Are you dozing off on me?" he then asked as I closed my eyes.

"A little," I admitted, stretching out my legs and turning on my side, suddenly very sleepy. "I know it's pretty early, but I'm just exhausted from everything with Drew, and… just… I don't know."

Harley kissed my neck. "Mmm, but maybe I wanted a shag!"

"Then go do it yourself," I grunted. "I'm tired."

"How greedy are you!" Harley complained. "I took the time to please you, and you won't return the favor?"

I was going to reply with something witty, or at least what I thought was going to be witty, but I ended up nodding off. I felt Harley climb off of me, and sooner or later, I smelt the stuffy scent of tobacco in the room. The man said something, but I wasn't able to catch it before I drifted off to sleep.

xxxxx

_-Harley-_

I had moved my darling faunlet to the bed during the wee hours of the night, after I had taken a long, soothing bath and attempted on several tries to poke at Max so he'd get up by himself and perhaps be open to a long, sweaty fuck. Of course, that hadn't happened, and I was forced to move him to the bedroom, where I had retired later as well. It was definitely not one of the most exciting of our nights together, and I decided I was going to blame Drew for it. I was quite positive that if Drew hadn't shown his pathetic, petty face at the Contest, Max and I would have had quite the different day, full of shags and maybe a bit of biting and hair pulling.

Max was still sleeping in the room, the poor tired soul, while I leaned over the edge of the stone balcony, smoking and staring at the glistening sun, newly risen this morning. It was rather breezy out, but not enough to kill the end spark on my cigarette. I expected it was going to rain today, as clouds were starting to form, blocking the blue sky.

Inside, I had set out a tray of food for when Maximus woke up, most of which I had already picked at after its arrival from the room attendant. I supposed that waking Max would be a good option, but I couldn't get myself to do it this morning, as he looked so fucking adorable sleeping. I had done him (and maybe myself, too) a favor and stripped him of his shirt and shorts, and while he slept so peacefully in his undies, he was completely unaware of how much I enjoyed _watching _him sleep.

Max had surprised me quite a bit by his lack of jealousy towards Lance. I still hated Drew a bit more for even telling him that piece of information, but I was rather glad Max seemed to grasp the fact Lance and I were long over. There wasn't anything too, too exciting about my relationship with the Elite Four trainer, but I had a feeling Max truly thought there was, and that there were things I wasn't telling him. Truthfully, I wasn't hiding anything. Well, I hadn't admitted that I was never too pleased with Lance _as a person_. He had an interest in women, which I found lousy, and he seemed too goodie-goodie when it came to many aspects of the world, most particularly his fear of having his sexuality exposed. Seeing as how he was familiar with Max, I wondered whether he'd be disgusted by the revelations I was fucking the boy now. In fact, I wondered on a further extension what some of Max's friends would think.

Tomorrow was Max's birthday, and he'd be thirteen. Thirteen! He'd be quite the little man, and although I already had my presents for him, I wondered if there was something else the two of us should do in order to complete his coming-of-age. Before I was able to formulate any useful thoughts, I heard the glass door slide open. I turned, seeing Max walking out onto the balcony, still in his fucking underwear and chewing on a bagel.

I immediately grinned devilishly. "Well, _good morning, _my love," I greeted, discarding my cigarette and swaggering over to the boy.

"Um, morning," he said, taking another bite of the bagel.

I was about to bend down and kiss the boy straight on the mouth, but I decided to have more fun, so I picked him up in a sloppy way, swooping his legs around my hips and letting his arms drape to his sides. I kissed him thoroughly on the mouth, making sure he felt the desperation that I had built up from not being able to fuck him last night. Max eventually pulled away, most likely startled by how passionate my kiss was.

"Uh… what are you doing out here?" he then asked.

"Ahh, just thinking," I replied, spreading an open palm around his cute, little chest. Oh, my, was his skin soft and warm! And, without his glasses, the boy just appeared so incredibly fuckable and innocent!

"Thanks for breakfast," he acknowledged, holding up the rest of the bagel. He gave me a soft smile.

I set the boy down on the edge of the balcony, letting him sit there adorably. I kissed him again—this time on the chin—and made a point to give him a small nip, just to wake him up fully. The boy jerked in surprise, then glared at me.

"Guess what I was thinking about," I teased, keeping my teeth in slow, grazing motion along the boy's neck.

"Something perverted," he answered, completely serious.

"No_oo,_" I assured. "I was thinking about your little friends from way back when."

Max blinked. "Why?"

"I was wondering what you think their reactions would be to knowing you're sleeping with moi, _the _Harley." I smiled, stroking the boy's messy hair. "Not even that, but just the fact you're getting your kicks with a man."

Max was silent for a moment, and I could tell he was thinking pretty hard. He eventually looked up at me, not pushing away my continual brushing of his hair with my fingers. "I don't think Ash would understand," he began, giving a quick shrug. "And Brock, well, I don't know. I think he'd be pretty surprised. But, they're my friends, and I think on some level they'd be more comfortable with it than May."

"You think?" I mused, pushing myself against the boy. "Well, anyway, sweet thing, what do you want to do today?" I let my hands drop down the boy's body, taking a firm hold of his hips and rubbing my body up against him softly.

"Yesterday when we were on our way back here," the boy said, "I saw an ice skating rink. Doesn't that sound fun?"

"Ice skating?" I repeated. "Who the fuck ice skates these days?"

Maximus shrugged. "I do, but not very often. It's more fun than regular skating, and I think you'd managed to have fun if we went."

"Darling, I don't even know how to _skate, _let alone _ice skate," _I admitted dully. "Do you really want to see me fall on my ass and skid across frozen water?"

The boy clutched my arm, and he made the most desperate, needy face in the world. "I can teach you though, Harley," he insisted. "It's not that hard, as far as I remember. May taught me when I was six."

I rolled my eyes, not wanting to hear about Ma_aaaa_y. "If I'm a good student, how will you reward me?"

"I don't know. I'll let you call me Maximus."

"You already let me," I pointed out, grinning. "How about letting me shag you?"

"Harley, you already do that, too," he droned, rolling his eyes. "I'll think about that later. Can we just go?" The boy gently pushed me away, hopping off the balcony and looking up to me curiously.

I patted his head, but bent down, feeling his delightful little ass. "You better go get ready then, my faunlet, otherwise I'll just have my way with you right here."

Max didn't look very convinced, but he walked off anyway, leaving me alone on the balcony to try and calm my desire. Jeesh, he had been out here less than ten minutes and already he had gotten me hard. Oh, I adored that kid's ability to do this, but I also couldn't help become very frustrated by his flip attitude, as if relieving me of my _problemo _was too much to ask. For goodness sake, he came out here, knowingly being only in his undies, and acted like it was no big deal.

I leaned up against the balcony, peeking into the bedroom as Max got dressed. I frowned at the sight of Max's clothes going on, not off, but nonetheless enjoyed the view. When Max was through, he trotted off to go wash up and I reentered the room, closing the glass door and grabbing my bag that rested on the dresser.

When Max came out of the bathroom, shiny-faced and with minty breath, the two of us were quick to get going for the day, him leading the way out the door, and eventually, to the lobby.

It took only fifteen or so minutes to reach the skating rink Max had spoken of, and I had to say that despite passing through its location so many times, I had never noticed it. Inside the white building, it was rather chilly and it felt as if the entire place made of ice, or at least consisted of twenty blasting air conditioners. It was like winter in here, and the paintings on the wall—all of snow-covered pine trees—only added to the allusion. It was quite strange.

"Max, I have to say I'm bit unsure whether I should take part of this experience," I grunted, folding my arms and jittering about in a chill.

Max would not have no for an answer. He was so fast to rush to the front desk, requesting two tickets and paying lickity-split. I was sure he didn't even give the lady the correct amount of cash, but he went ahead anyway, gesturing for me to follow into the hall that led to the actual rink. I was hesitant, but the way Max waved about the two tickets made me unwilling to turn him down. Besides, he was wearing the cutest little outfit today: a thin v-neck sweater and a pair of loose tan capris. I had never seen the boy in actual pants, and I had a feeling this was the closest I was going to get to, but it didn't really matter, as I preferred being able to see his bare legs. Right now, I got a wonderful sight of his shins and ankles, and I just wanted to push him against the wall and molest him the way I did at the Lake of Rage. He was such a tart, this kid.

"Are you coming?" he asked, tilting his head.

I breathed upwards, causing my bangs to fly around. I pretended to be incredibly bothered by the whole event—even though now I was softening up to the idea of skating simply by the knowledge Max was going to teach me—by rolling my eyes and then dragging my feet as I followed. I noted, in the back of my head, that Max did owe me big for this. A shag or two wouldn't even do this time; I wanted a bit more, although I doubted Max would ever let me do what I was considering, which involved more than just _biting. _

I chuckled lowly as I continued to follow Max down the hall. At the end it opened up to the large, overpowering ice rink, surrounded by bleachers, and to the left, a small food court with tables and everything. I considered talking Max into getting something to eat, but he just had breakfast, and I knew I was only putting off the inevitable. Max was quick to walk over to the skate rental and even quicker to remove both his shoes in exchange for ice skates. He looked over his shoulder, checking to see if I was approaching.

"You have to give them your shoes, Harley," Max revealed.

"Yes, I see that, but my problem is more about sticking my foot somewhere a jillion other people have," I explained dully. Of course, I figured most renters had worn socks, but it still bothered me. Nonetheless, I removed my boots slowly, handing them over to the attendant behind the counter.

After we received our skates, the two of us sat down at the closest bleacher and began putting them on, which was quite the task for me. The skates were ridiculously tight and gross, but I managed to sink both my feet in despite the dirty feeling. Sighing, I laced the skates and lifted my foot, getting a good look at the thin, shiny blade that ran across the brown bottom of the otherwise white skate. How the bloody hell was I supposed to keep my balance on something this thin?

"It's easier than it looks," Max said, as if he read my thoughts. He finished tying up his left skate and then slowly—very carefully—stood up, leaning forward in a small stumble before managing to successfully get his balance. And, he just stood there perfectly, as if it didn't matter how excellently he had achieved it.

"Your sister,"—I made sure not to say her name—"must have taught you well, I suppose." I looked up to Max, removing my hat and placing it next to me along with my bag.

"She was a good skater," the boy admitted, making a few steps and somehow managing to waddle finely along the cement flooring. "Want to try standing up?" he asked, and he offered his hand.

I took the boy's small, cute hand, allowing myself up as best I could. Even before I could _attempt _to balance myself, my ankles bucked, and I stumbled back down to my seat messily. I let out a curse, trying again—but this time, putting a hand on either sides of Max's shoulders—and keeping my equilibrium that way. My legs still shook and it made me want to sit again, but Max kept me up, stepping backwards a little and urging me to make a step myself. I grunted loudly, unable to place my foot on the floor without my ankles wobbling.

"Max, darling, I'm afraid you're dealing with someone completely incapable of skating," I muttered.

"I don't think so," Max debated. "Aren't you, like, supposed to capable of these artsy sort of things, being, um, you know…?"

"Oh, Christ, boy, you can say it!" I gargled as I continued trying to keep myself upright. "But, _no, _because I'm not like all the other fags of the world. I'm classier than that."

Max laughed—actually _laughed_!—for one of the first times, smiling widely and looking at me all the while. I just wanted to fall over him on purpose, having him pinned to the ground where he was accessible to fuck and fawn over, because he was just precious at the moment. It inspired me to try keeping my balance on my own, so I released my grip from the boy's shoulders, leaning backwards the best I could in an attempt to get myself proportionally correct.

"It helps if you just experiment with positions, and see which one allows you to keep your balance," the boy threw out as helpful advice.

"Positions, eh?" I echoed wickedly.

Max rolled his eyes, but watched as I flopped my arms all over the place, trying desperately not to fall on my ass. I almost did, my ankles bucking again, but I quickly reached out, managing to get my hand on the glass case that encircled the entire railing of the rink. I sighed, leaning against it tiredly and staring off onto the rink, where couples and individuals were just going around in circles, over and over.

"Want to watch me go around?" the boy wondered.

"In fact, I would," I answered, giving him a smile.

The boy waddled off in his skates, stepping onto the ice and starting off slowly as he began skidding across the ice. He was already looking wonderful, the polar opposite of what would've occurred had I stepped onto the rink. He skated around the curve, his arms out as he kept his balance and bypassed many people, proving once more, that he was a fine faunlet of a boy, in possession of charms unlike any other boy his age. I swore that if he skated around enough times, I would become fully aroused, just by watching his legs at work, gliding across the ice masterfully.

Suddenly, the boy was smack in front of me, over on the other side of the glass and smiling brightly in his pride of completing going around the rink. My expression somehow softened, less lustful than usual, and I gave the boy a smile back.

"Congratulations, my delicious piece of illegal boy-ass."

Max's smile quickly transformed into a glare. "Way to help the situation of yesterday," he quipped, but in reality, he was completely serious.

"Oh, don't be silly," I dismissed, brushing a hand about. "I thought that was excellent, but it was impossible for me not to notice how fantastic those legs of yours looked."

Max made his way out of the rink and back to me. "Are _you _ready for a try?" he asked.

"Not really," I admitted. But, against my own answer, I stepped forward anyway, keeping my hand pressed against the glass the entire time.

At the edge of the rink, I stared down at the shiny, pearly white ice, which looked so glossy and slippery that I was immediately unsure. I tightened my grip on the glass, putting a single foot onto the ice and feeling a shiver run through my body. I hated to admit it—and I never would _vocally—_but I was scared. It was fucking ice! And I had a blade that was like less than a centimeter thick that I was supposed to balance my weight on! What the fuck was anyone thinking when they invented ice skating?

"Come on," Max urged, stepping onto the ice himself and offering his hand again.

I was quick to take the boy's hand this time; however, with the pure reliance of his help, I let my mind drift away from the glass, causing my foot to skid across the ice. My entire body tumble forward, pulling Max with me until we both ended up on the icy floor, knocked down in the most humiliating way possible.

"Fuck!" I swore, shocked by just how cold the ice felt against my palm. I tried to sit back—having thankfully fallen on my hands and knees, not my ass—but failed miserably as I just slid a few more inches back.

"Way to go!" Max criticized, sounding very sulky. He managed to get up fine, but meanwhile, I was still on the floor, which made me feel like shit. "Here," the boy said, offering to help me up.

As he pulled me to my feet, I was unable to stay that way, my ankles and knees bucking continuously and my arms flailing about like a fucking moron. I slammed myself against the railing, keeping myself up that way. I let out another curse, looking down at Max, who was amused, the little fuck!

"What?" I demanded viciously.

"I don't know," he shrugged out. "It's sort of… funny, I guess, to see you this way. Maybe even kind of… uh, cute."

"Cute?" I repeated with amusement. I then smiled knowingly. "Of course I'm cute, but I'd prefer my sweet Maximus to see me as his older, wise, wickedly experienced and devilishly charming and rogue lover." I titled my head towards the light, showing off my features.

"Lover…?" Max echoed, his face burning with heat despite the bitter cold of this rink. "I never really thought about, um, _us, _that way. The word makes it seem a bit silly."

I shrugged. "Whatever term floats your boat, floats mine, too. I'm even okay with the word 'fuck-buddy,' but I'm sure we're more than that, right?" I laughed with amusement, especially at the look on Max's face that revealed even more embarrassment. "After all, 'fuck-buddy' doesn't really describe a pair like you and I, who are wonderfully engaged in each other's lives."

Max was very uncomfortable with the conversation, which had actually become quite rare these days—at least to the point where he wanted the discussion dropped. It was very obvious he wanted it dropped now from the way he turned his back on me, taking a few steps back before turning around urging me to try again. I wasn't sure what the point was, but I tried anyway, sliding myself across the ice a few feet.

"Okay, now try to do that without holding the glass," Max offered, backing up even more in case I fell.

I spent a vast amount of time trying to get my balance first. In a sloppy, fidgety way, I succeeded, and I forced my weight forward, gliding across the ice as slowly as I could manage. Remarkably, for the few inches I glided, I did not fall on my face, and I grinned widely, proudly pointing my nose up into the air in a snide pride.

"Good," Max remarked, skating down a bit more. "Now try!"

"Ah, one step at a time, my sweet," I cautioned, repeating my small inch of a glide several more times, but not rushed at all.

Max patiently waited for me to arrive over to him, which happened sooner or later. At the very end of the journey—oh, fuck yes, it was a journey, and an epic one at that—I somehow messed up, either being too sure of myself or being distracted by Max's faunlet-y self. My ankles bucked, and I fell backwards, this time on my ass, and this time, a lot harder than the previous. I shouted my curse loudly.

"Harley…" Max coaxed, "don't be so verbal. You're working on it, so don't rush." The boy bent down, getting on his knees and looking at me.

"What?" I asked, glaring at him as I rubbed my bottom. "Don't give me that look."

Max began laughing again, and I sensed something much more malicious this time around; however, I also recognized the old Max I had met when he was eight. He was carefree, chipper and not at all snarky and on-guard of my random molestations. I grinned, extending an arm and bringing his chin towards my face. Max became stiff, unsure if he should accept the public kiss, but as I brought him closer and closer, he did not reject me, allowing me to place my lips on his and my hand on his back.

"Mmm," I moaned, pressing my tongue inside his mouth and pushing forward even more.

Max quickly backed up. "Don't," he warned, his brow creasing. "This is not the place for _that, _Harley."

"He's absolutely right."

Neither of us having said that, I furrowed my own brow, whirling my head to the right and seeing, through the glass covering, the familiar face of the fucker we had encountered yesterday: preppy Drew.

My expression flattened, but I turned to look at Max, who looked just as bemused by the prep's appearance. I rolled my eyes, annoyed, and stood up, getting to my feet in a surprisingly casual way. Max followed suit, standing next to me and skating over to the railing to get closer to Drew for conversation.

"Are you stalking us?" I blurted out, not even bothering to make anything in my tone or manner friendly.

"Not quite," Drew said, putting his hands in his pockets. "I saw you two walking here," he then answered.

"So, you're stalking us," I stated, nodding.

"No," he said more firmly. "It wasn't hard to miss you two on the street: Harley being so goddamn campy, and Max being so short. You two stood out. And, speaking of which, I find it pretty bold of you two to be making-out on the rink."

Max made a noise in the back of his throat. "We weren't," the boy argued. "And, I'm not that short."

I laughed, putting a hand on Max's shoulder. "Ah, but Drew, the real question here is what the fuck you want _today_?"

"Nothing, really," the prep admitted. "I just wanted to know if Max told you he knows."

"About Lance?" I quickly said.

Drew's face showed disappointment. It was obvious that his tidbit of information about Lance and I was his one and only weapon to use against me, the one revelation that he thought would tear Max and I apart. In reality, it led to me wanking the boy and speaking quite the saucy list of what we liked about each other.

"I told him I knew," Max confirmed. "I know you thought it was a big deal, but I don't think it is."

"How could it not, Max? I'm sure Lance is only one of a hundred men Harley's slept with. And, like I said, I think it was more."

"Nah, it wasn't Drew—it was just a couple of days of fun," I quipped bitterly, holding myself up against the railing despite my legs giving out.

"How is it you haven't been arrested yet, Harley? You're _obviously_ not attempting to hide the fact you _sleep_ with Max." His eyes widened with each emphasis.

"It's not anyone's business, sure, but I'm not going to run around trying to hide the truth," I grunted. "Unlike _some people,_" I then added, speaking of Lance.

"Drew, maybe you should just go," Max suggested softly.

"Max, what if I wanted to tell May about what I've seen between Harley and you?" Drew then wondered. "Would you stop me?"

"I don't want her to know!" the boy exclaimed suddenly. "It's… it's not right for you to invade Harley and mine's business."

Drew shook his head in disbelief. "This _is _May's business as far as I'm concerned. She's your sister, and you're basically getting molested by Harley, one of her worst acquaintances."

"Drew…" Max uttered, "I have no plans to tell her, but if I ever decided to… I wouldn't just drop the bomb the way you want to do. It's not fair to anyone."

"She has a right to know," the prep continued on.

"She doesn't!" Max insisted. "Would you like it if I went around telling people private things about May and _you_?"

"May and I were different, and we had nothing to hide."

"Ah, then why is it you two broke-up and refused to tell why?" I wondered, raising an eyebrow. "Could it be that you wanted to get into her virginal little cunt, and she said no?"

"Well, if that were true then at least I respected her decision and didn't force her into anything," Drew managed to say, keeping his composure. But, there was something weird about the way he was speaking, and I sensed my story was true.

"What is it about Norman's children that makes different sort of people want to screw them silly? Now, Max I understand because he's a fun faunlet, who is willing to try new things and is willing to fuck me. May, on the other hand, might be cute to a guy like you, but the odd thing is she just won't allow anyone to deflower her. Isn't that ironic? Siblings can be _so different._"

Drew turned away, and instead of something snide coming out of his mouth, he frowned, and said, "May and I dated when she was around Max's age. When we talked about having sex she said she wasn't ready, and that was the end of it." He rolled his eyes, but I saw the flush of color on his cheeks, and I knew that he was only saying this to make Max and I feel like garbage, regardless of how much it embarrassed himself.

"It doesn't even matter _now,_" Max pointed out, finally jumping back in the conversation. "What happened between Harley and I happened, and there's nothing that can change it."

Drew turned around a bit, not wanting Max and I to be able to see his face fully. I sensed that he honestly did not want to talk about this, but was so set on comparing his "flawless" relationship with May to Max's disgusting and wrong relationship with _moi._ I was very unsure how a sexless relationship was supposed to be normal, even a minimal sexual relationship. How the fuck did those work? If you weren't willing to fuck the person you cared about most and enjoy it, there was something incredibly wrong with you. And, what the hell was this "ready" jibble? What was there to prepare for when it was going to happen somewhere down the road? I didn't give a flying fuck about the man who took my virginity, so what was May holding off for? Maybe her twat was diseased!

"I have to admit," Max started, "I was sort of bothered by the fact May hadn't done anything before I had."

Drew continued not to let us see his face. He eventually stepped backwards and sat down on the long bleacher behind him, hinting that Max and I should finally get off of the skating rink. Max was quick to go ahead and do this, gliding across the ice to one of the exits, leaving me stranded. I sighed, trying to catch up as I tightly held the ramp and allowed my body to slide about until I reached the exit, too. It was messy, but I did it, and I certainly felt a bit humiliated by how fucking ridiculous I knew I looked.

Max was hesitant to approach Drew any further, and instead of sitting at all, he stood against the glass window, his back leaning on it and his hands behind him, sagging. It took me another minute or two to get where they were, and I was pretty ticked off Max wasn't willing to help me.

"Any reason you decided not to assist me, darling?" I wondered, cocking my head towards Max.

The boy blinked and then shrugged, but his eyes shifted, hinting it was Drew's presence that made him lack any sweetness towards me. I flashed a grin, patting the boy's shoulder and sitting, as I knew I couldn't stand another two minutes on the fucking skates. I crossed my legs, purposely knocking the skate against Drew's own leg, hoping—just a tinsy bit—that the blade would cut him. It didn't, of course, but the prep scooted several inches away from me, annoyed.

"So, why are you two here anyway?" Drew asked, looking only at Max.

Max shrugged again. "I thought it would be fun. Plus, Harley doesn't know how to skate, and I wanted to teach him."

"And, it _was _going down pretty well until you showed up," I remarked to Drew.

Drew ignored me, and said, "Max, for the sake of feeling sorry for you, I'm _not _going to tell May about your relationship. But, if you want my advice, it would be to tell her. She deserves to know."

"I'll consider it," the boy stated. "I mean, what's the worst that could happen?"

"She could kill Harley. But, I don't think that's the _worst _that could happen."

I laughed sarcastically, glaring all the meanwhile at the fucking prep, who I really wanted to hurt.

"Well, I don't want Harley dead!" Max grunted. "I don't want anyone dead. That's terrible to think."

Drew sighed and tapped his fingers on his thigh. "I haven't spoken to May in about a month, but we're still keep in touch. I don't want to have to lie to her about anything, so I would suggest telling her this as soon as possible."

"But… but I don't really talk to May anymore. At least not these days." Max's eyes narrowed. "Hasn't she told you about any of that?"

"She told me she felt like you two were growing apart," Drew admitted. "That's it though. She never wanted to talk about it too much. What happened?"

"_I _don't want to talk about it either."

Drew now looked at me, and it amused me how despite his hatred towards what I had "done" to Max, he still expected me to be aware of the situation, as if he knew Max and I were more than just fuck-buddies. I gave him a raise of both my brows and shrugged.

Drew seemed curious, but dropped it, saying, "Well, when do you think you're going to talk to her again?"

"Harley said I should talk to her again, that it might help me feel better about everything, so… I've been meaning to…"

"Really? Harley said that?" Drew wondered.

I pursed my lips in amusement. If only he knew how much I _hadn't _intended to coax Max into reconciling with his fucking sister when we were making PokéBlock way back then. Still, Drew seemed amazed how Max saw me, and I appreciated it in a self-centered way. However, I think Drew sensed my reasoning for telling Max this had an ulterior motive anyway.

"You know, Max is an excellent skater," I suddenly said. "It's too bad you came here and interrupted the lesson, otherwise I could've been an expert like him by now."

"I applaud you, Max. I don't know how to skate either." He shrugged. "I should go now, I guess. If you're going to go through with telling May, I suppose I don't have much to worry about. Unless Harley has a problem with May knowing."

"Not really. It's her funeral." I grinned.

Drew stood up and looked at Max for a moment. "If you need anything, I'm staying at the hotel across from the Pokémon Center."

"Um, okay," Max said, watching as Drew turned and began walking.

"Shall we continue our lesson, Maximus?" I asked, raising a brow.

Max was still looking after Drew, seeming lost in thought, and I knew it had to be about possibly telling May. After a long while, he sighed and then looked at me. "Yeah, okay." He began waddling off to the rink.

I looked over to where I sensed Drew still lingering, and sure enough, he was standing in the entryway of the long hall, watching us. I believe Max sensed something between Drew and I, the need to talk for a moment just by ourselves. With my faunlet off on the rink, I tried my best to approach Drew again, but I struggled, and Drew decided to walk back over to me, arms crossed and brow creased.

"Tomorrow's Max's birthday," Drew said, as if I didn't know.

I rolled my eyes. "Maximus said he didn't want anything, but I bought him a present—or, rather, _presents—_anyway. I intend to make his day special."

"Hmm," Drew mused. "Do I even want to know what kind of presents you got the boy?"

"Maybe not," I said, shrugging. Of course, I hadn't gotten the boy anything absurd (at least not in my eyes!), but it was fun to throw the bait at Drew anyway. "But, he'll appreciate it."

"Then maybe give you another blow job?"

"Ah, so you did catch onto my hint yesterday!" I patted his back roughly. "Good for you. For someone who has never fucked anyone, I'm glad you're not dumb about it."

Drew grunted out a long swear and stepped away from me. "I hope you realize Max truly does think something better of you," the prep stated. "I can sense he still thinks you're a campy fag, but at least you managed to get him to see another side of you."

I put a hand on my hip, leaning my weight over in displeasure at his comment. "My campy faggotry doesn't bother my darling one bit. Besides, who says Max isn't a fag, too?"

"If you asked me, I think he's more confused than anything else. I'm sure he likes girls to some point."

"He sure likes his goddamn sister," I muttered bitterly. "I mean, he _really _likes her."

"That's disgusting, Harley," Drew sneered.

"Well, Max did let himself go a bit far when he talked about his sister's _smell_ and _smile _and whatnot. Sort of creepy, really." I shrugged, and although I hadn't thought much about it, it was something that bugged me. Max spent a great deal of time in angst over May, what she had done, and what he missed about her. "Anything weird ever come out of May's mouth?"

Instead of jumping to an almighty answer of _no, _Drew was silent, either considering the possibility or knowing something he didn't want to talk about. His eyes shifted, and he pursed his lips, not at ease.

"Well…?"

"Once," Drew admitted. "She was really upset about Max not talking to her, and I mean _really _upset. She was babbling about what Max and her used to share, and she said that even when she used to cry Max always had a way of cheering her up, and she let it slip that he used to… kiss her…"

I sneered angrily at this. The way Drew said it revealed he was in no way lying either. He seemed very curious about the sibling's relationship, too. It was hard to think about though, as I hated May deeply and couldn't get myself to think about the possibility Max—my sweet, little faunlet—and her could've been a bit closer than what was considered "normal."

"They're siblings," Drew quickly stated shakily. "I don't have any siblings, so I don't know anything about whether that's an everyday thing."

"I have no siblings either," I admitted. "But Max shows enthusiasm for me, a kind I couldn't see him expressing for a girl's twat, whether it's May's or not."

"_Ugh_, Harley," Drew mumbled, uncomfortable. He then put up a hand in dismissal. "Whatever. I think it's ridiculous of us to even consider something like that."

"I don't think it is," I said nonchalantly. "And, even so, what's the big deal? They don't talk anymore, although if any of this were true then maybe it explains why they're both overly hurt about their downfall."

"But, you encouraged Max to talk to May."

"I didn't fucking mean to," I blurted out, sighing heavily. "Even if he does go through with it, I doubt Max would choose to screw his sister over _moi._"

"Well," Drew began, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "regardless of what's going on with those two, I can say without a doubt that Max would choose May over you in any situation." He decided to leave it at that, turning to walk away.

I bit my bottom lip. None of this made me happy at all. Of course I had thought about the issue beforehand—many times, actually—but seeing that Drew feared something, too, was rather irritating. I mean, I doubted the two ever fucked each other, but I had always heard weird rumors about siblings experimenting and garbage like that. Max was too startled by my first moves on him, so I doubted they ever fooled around, so _what _was there? Maybe they _wanted _to fool around or something.

Still, that didn't explain Max _kissing _May when she was upset! What kind of kissing were we talking about anyway? I gritted my teeth. I couldn't let his bother me too much. Max was a virgin when we met, and it was _I _who fucked him the first time. No one could take that away from me. No one. Max was indeed the perfect, ideal boy that every man would want to get his hands on, but nope—it was _I _who got to, and it was _I _who would continue to do so. I never wanted Max to be touched by another person. He was mine.

I got myself together and spotted Max completing what had to be his fourth time going around the rink. He didn't look bored, but when he saw that I was looking at him, he stopped, coming to a stylish halt with a skid of the blade and a smile flashing from his mouth. I knew he was curious as to what Drew and I had been talking about, but I imagined he had no idea we were talking about _May and him._

I clumsily made my way to the rink again, being very, very careful not step too quickly onto the ice. The slipperiness felt much more foreign now that I had been relaxing on regular concrete cement during Drew's little visit.

"You're doing pretty good," Max commented.

_He was mine._

I would never let him get away from me, oh no. This realization of how protective I was of him caused me to put my other foot on the ice and slide myself close to Max, pinning him against the railing and glass window. I smirked, brushing a hand through his hair.

"You're a fabulous boy, you know that?"

"Fabulous?" he echoed.

"Indeed. I couldn't imagine being nearly as content as I've been lately had it not been for your spectacular presence." I leaned in, kissing the boy's chin.

"People are watching," Max warned.

I turned just a bit, seeing that behind us a few people were indeed giving us a rather boggled look. I felt Max's body temperature rise, and not in the way I normally liked. Nope, it was an embarrassed, uncertain jitter, and I saw visible evidence appear on his pale cheeks. I smiled anyway, and kissed him again, but this time, on the forehead.

"Okay, let's get back to skating," he insisted, pushing me away, but not harsh enough for me to fall backwards and land on my ass like a moron.

I chuckled and allowed him to continue on with the lesson. It involved most of the same old routine of him backing up and having me come forward. I felt pretty lame after a while, knowing that I must have looked like a complete and utter ass, so incompetent and stupid. But, whatever the case, I kept going, eventually managing to get halfway around the rink before stumbling forward, right onto Max and causing him to fall onto the ice with me.

"Damn!" I shouted, just sitting there with my hands behind me to hold my weight. My back hurt madly, and there was an aching throb developing in my head, most likely from the cold in this arena.

Max got to his feet, dusting himself off and laughing. I gave him a deadpanned expression, grabbing his wrist and forcing him back down to his knees. He hit the ice rather roughly, but recovered and gave me a questioning stare, completely on-guard of the people bypassing us and the lingering souls on the other side of the rink.

"Harley," he began to caution.

"How much money would I have to give you to allow me to fuck you right here?" I questioned, trying to sound completely serious to make Max nervous.

Sure enough, he became red and jittery. "N-none! I mean, none that I want…! I, uh, _great…_" He buried his red face in his hands, but I felt a smile developing beneath the palms covering his lips. "You know what I mean! I would _not _do something like that! No matter how much you gave me!"

I laughed hysterically, covering my mouth with the back of my hand. "You're a silly boy, my darling," I teased, continuing to snicker all the meanwhile until my stomach hurt. I then leaned in, kissing him on the lips. "Tell me, though…" I began afterwards, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, what?" he asked.

"You once suggested you couldn't see yourself with anyone else other than yours truly," I stated. "Were you lying to me, or did you mean that?"

"I… um, I…" He bit his lip. "I don't know. I can imagine you with other people, and sometimes I can't even really grasp what's going on between us. I mean, it is a, uh, relationship, right?"

"Of the sorts," I assured fondly, brushing back some of his hair. "What I'm getting at, Max, is whether or not you ever want a girl."

Max's eyes widened and then narrowed. "I guess you wouldn't like if I said yes…"

I shrugged. "Well, that dweeb, Lance, liked himself some of the lasses out there, so I don't think there's anything _wrong _with it, but I want _my_ Max to be a bit more exclusive."

"Well, I don't know," he answered. "I certainly never had feelings for a girl like I do… for… um, you…"

I smiled, liking that answer. "Ah, now we must get up. My ass is getting wet from this ice."

Max smiled back and stood up, helping me as well. I considered in the back of my mind that if Max wanted to shag a girl, then that was all fine and dandy, but I would just never allow him the opportunity. Max was mine, and he was _not _going to get away from me. Not now, not ever.

**End of Part Eight**


	9. Part Nine

**Part Nine**

_-Max-_

The thick sheets were bundled against my body, enclosing me in the warm bed. My eyes were still shut, and I rested my head on the pillow bent to the side, causing me to become more huddled and squished. It wasn't cold, but I enjoyed the feeling of the sheets, and with the sun's soft heat beating down on my back, I felt very relaxed. I wasn't sure what time it was, but I did not want to get up.

Absently, I thought about yesterday and how Harley and I had ice skated. It had been really fun, especially since I had to _teach _Harley. He hadn't gotten very far in the lesson, but at least he tried. I still couldn't help chuckle at the amount of times he fell. It was just so unrealistic for Harley, who always seemed so above doing something that would undoubtedly make him look silly. I was glad he was open to trying it out.

Of course, Drew had showed up and ruined some of the day. His claims of wanting to tell May and how May "deserved to know" still irritated me. It _wasn't _May's business, whether I was talking to her or not. Jeesh. But, I had told Drew I was going to break the news. I was lying, for the most part, but the problem was, if Drew found out I hadn't told my sister, he would tell her for me. It was like I was trapped, like he _wanted _her to know more than anything. If I didn't see the problem with being involved with Harley then why did I have to go out of my way to work up the courage to fill May in on the news?

Suddenly, I heard a rough scrape of metal against metal, causing me to sit up in surprise, searching for the cause of the noise. It was then that I realized Harley was not in bed with me, and instead, he was standing by the balcony window, having swung the curtains all the way to the end to get all the sunlight into the room. I rose an eyebrow in confusion, still buried halfway between all the sheets. The man was carrying a rather large tray of food, much larger than any tray he had previously brought to me for breakfast or dinner. In fact, it was almost entirely covered in the metal lids that hid the food.

"Oh, um, good morning," I greeted, throwing some of the sheets off my body. I wasn't wearing anything so I kept my lower-body covered.

"Happy birthday, my sweet Maximus," he said, smiling widely as he set the tray on the bed and crawled up on his knees. "You're thirteen today." He was only wearing a light blue robe, tied-up and aligning his body well.

I blinked a few times, my head clearing from my last bit of sleepy blurs. "Oh," I voiced. "I forgot about that."

"How could you forget?" the man wondered, trapping me between his legs as he crawled over me. "It's my darling's special day."

I blushed, feeling very claimed by the man's insistence. He leaned down, giving me a kiss on the cheek. I smiled when he put a hand on my shoulder, rubbing the spot he had bit me a few nights ago. Finally, Harley brushed back some of my hair, then sat up, presenting the tray to me by uncovering all the lids.

"Jeez!" I exclaimed, looking at all the food. There were pancakes, eggs, toast, muffins—_everything—_and I was so baffled by why he would order all this when I surely couldn't eat it all. "Harley, are you trying to make me throw up by eating this all?"

Harley waved a hand in a forward answer. "No, darling, I just wasn't sure what the birthday boy wanted." He picked up a plain muffin and bit into it. "Mmm!" he commented, smiling as he chewed.

I chose to eat the toast, placing the plate on my lap and biting into the bread. It was very warm and soft, and I was surprised by how perfect it tasted. "I almost thought you forgot about my birthday," I admitted. "I mean, these days sort of flew by, and although I kept remembering it was coming up, I blanked it out this morning."

Harley shrugged. "Why would I forget? I told you I wouldn't." He extended an arm and brushed through my messy hair again. "You're thirteen!"

"Do you still like me?" I wondered. "Or, is thirteen too old?"

"Maximus!" Harley barked, slapping me playfully on the shoulder (although it sort of hurt). "You sound like that fucker, Drew."

I laughed, smiling in amusement. "I know, I know! I'm just joking though!" I grinned some more before picking up a glass of orange juice and sipping.

"Oh, you little liar," he argued, wagging a finger as he held the half-eaten muffin in his other hand. "Does Maximus worry that he'll get too old for me to want to shag?"

I furrowed my brow. "Well, if you put it that way, then—"

Harley interrupted me, shouting, "Don't be bloody silly, dear! I don't think that could ever happen. You'll always be twelve—or, well, eleven—years younger than me, and therefore worth my shagging for a lifetime." He laughed.

I wasn't sure what a _lifetime _was to him, but it sort of bothered me that he even suggested getting older could hinder whether or not he still liked me. I had mentioned it jokingly, but his statement made it sound like he had already considered it time and time again. But, I was still the same kid I was yesterday; I hadn't changed physically at all, so maybe I was just being negative.

After Harley was done with the muffin, he started picking at another piece of toast, tearing off the crust and eating only the buttery middle part. I ate most of the pancakes until the syrup became cold and unpleasant. When we were through with it, Harley took the tray and placed it in the hallway.

While he was gone, I flattened out the sheets around me, getting ready to stand up and get changed for the day. Before I could manage, Harley came back into the room, and I was immediately stilled by the sight of him holding a colorful bag, a bag that was undoubtedly a present. I gaped, furrowing my brow harshly and staring at how he swished over to me, crawling back on the bed again and dropping the present right into my lap in a _plop._

"Harley…" I said, confused and surprised at the same time. "I… I told you I didn't want anything though."

"I know you did," he assured in a nod. "But, darling, I couldn't help it."

I looked down at the present, sparkly and stuffed with pink tissue paper to match the light purple bag. I had no idea what he could've gotten me but I was very touched by the gesture. He honestly did not have to go out of his way to do this. And, speaking of which, when did he find the time? I figured maybe that's what he did when I was battling Jasmine, but I wasn't sure. I'd have to ask later.

"Well, go on!" he urged. "Open it!"

I exhaled softly, spreading the perfect tissue paper and beginning to get a peek at the inside of the bag. I reached in, grasping what I saw, which happened to be wrapped and taped in the pink paper, too. It was oddly shaped, looking like it was a box of some sort. I tore the paper, seeing a plastic case, clear and revealing what the actual present was. It took a moment to sink in, but I realized that it was a dark green umbrella.

My expression softened. I opened the transparent plastic case, letting the umbrella drop into my grip. It was one of the types that closed in a much small, tighter branch and sealed with a long Velcro strap. I looked up at Harley, who had a goofy grin on his face. It might've seemed silly, but something in my stomach fluttered and my heart sank, the immediate beginning of a staggering sentiment that sort of startled me. I couldn't get myself to look at Harley for a very long time after realizing just how weird the present made me feel. Color burned onto my cheeks, and I began stuttering.

Harley laughed and leaned forward, getting closer to my face. "Can you throw out that poncho now?"

This made me chuckle softly. "I guess," I said, allowing him to tilt my chin up. Instead of waiting for it, I craned my neck, placing my lips on his and locking him in a rather deep kiss.

It took a lot for me to do this, but I was glad; it was an affirmation of how much I appreciated the memorabilia he had given me. No one else would've understood it, but I did. I felt Harley's lips extend in a smile through the kiss, and thankfully, without my glasses in the way, I was able to press myself against him fully.

"Thank you, Harley," I finally said, still keeping him close. "This was really, um, _sweet _of you to do."

"Well, that fucking plastic bag of a thing you wore was absolutely hideous, so I hope this also helps your fashion sense, too." He stamped a kiss on my forehead, pressing in some of my hair as well. He then grabbed the umbrella from me, throwing it lightly to the side and pushing the bag against me. "There's something else."

"Something else?" I blinked, confused, but reached in, feeling something silky and soft that definitely was not wrapped up in any tissue. Scrunched up in my hand, I shook the small, green-colored—just like the umbrella—material loose and saw what they were revealed to be: a pair of underwear.

Harley took them from my grip, stretching them out with his fingers and waving them in front of my face. "Ta-da!" he exclaimed. "Just like the old ones we threw out, except green and maybe a tinsy bit tighter."

"Harley!" I yelled, grabbing the things and throwing them down on the bed. "Why would you buy something like this for me?"

"Hey, you're the one who owned a strikingly similar pair _way _before I showed up to remind you how good you looked in them." He gave a feline grin, picking the underwear up again and rubbing them against my face. "Soft, huh?"

I frowned deeply. "I like the umbrella better," I droned. "Way to ruin the mood. I was starting to feel like you were doing something, like, sweet and nice."

"I am!" he insisted. "I thought it was appropriate for a boy's thirteenth birthday."

I tried my best not to smile, but I was sort of amused by how much he honestly thought there was nothing wrong with what he got me to pair up with the umbrella. I shook my head, saying, "You're weird."

"That's why you absolutely cannot resist me," he assured, pinning me down on the kissed my neck, stroking my hair and rubbing a hand up and down my chest. "You better fucking wear these, especially after the look the cashier gave me when I was buying them. I swear, she must have thought I was a perverted bastard."

"Uh, aren't you?" I wondered, creasing my brow.

"Ah, it's not my fault you look so good in crazy little boy undies," he protested, sitting up but still trapping me beneath his body.

Already I felt a stiffness growing in his lower-body, a lusty desire that was forming as he watched me simply lie against the bed. It was overwhelming that I could create this sort of desire in him, but also very satisfying. Before everything happened with him, I had no idea I was capable of making someone feel this way and it had become very addictive.

"Put them on, please," he suggested, taking the underwear and pushing them against my chest. "I want to see you in them."

"It's my birthday, Harley. This doesn't benefit me." I rose my eyebrows to emphasize my point, but I knew it wasn't as powerful as I would've liked to think.

"Ahh, don't make it sound like you won't enjoy it," he debated, taking the things himself and scooting down my body. "I'm going to put them on for you then. Like last time."

Unlike the first time, however, I didn't fight him. As he lowered himself down my body, he stopped at my hips, using his palm to massage my inner thighs, causing a shiver to sputter through my body. I was forced to shut my eyes, knowing I was going to grow hard soon. I felt Harley swoop an arm under my leg and begin to put on the green underwear. My hips rose, an involuntary declaration for him to touch me, and sure enough, he was quick to follow through, using a single finger to design invisible patterns on my flesh. This delicate touch made a soundless moan escape my mouth, and I felt the strong arousal form.

The silky material on my body made me shiver even more, and as he purposely used an open-palmed hand to glide up my leg, the lust between us only grew. When he leaned against my body, I felt how hard he was himself. I swallowed hard, not expecting the opening of presents to lead to _this._

Soon, Harley untied his robe, throwing it aside and pressing his chest against mine as he stamped more kisses on my shoulder and neck. I groaned very softly, feeling his hand stroke me through the thin material of the underwear. He then aligned our bodies properly, wasting no time to rub himself against. He felt so warm and solid, a much more powerful thrust than normal. He seemed needy, desperate, and very, very enticed by the silly undergarment on me.

"You're thirteen, darling," he repeated, moving the crooks of his elbows beneath my underarms and pulling me up against the headboard. "Know what that means?"

"I'm a teenager," I breathed out, not bothering to fight and instead, pulling the man towards me. I spread my legs a bit, allowing each to be on either side of his hips.

The man smiled, and I saw something devilish in it. "Well, yes, but it also means that you—my sweet, delicious tart—are required to receive thirteen spankings!" He was rough, flipping me over in a rush and forcing me on his lap.

"Wait! Harley—!" I protested, squirming around on my stomach. "_Spankings_? Are you nuts?"

"Not at all!" he said happily. "It's a tradition! Now, are you ready?" I felt his hand rise up, his palm spread and his fingers aligned.

"Harley!" I yelled again.

He didn't stop though. Instead, he smacked his hand down, straight onto my bottom, against the material and against my flesh. I was startled by the hit: my entire body jerked, and I let out a rather shaky grunt that I tried to quiet down with pursed lips.

"One," he began, and I could feel the smirk in his words.

"_That really hurt!" _I shouted. "I mean, Christ, Harley, why would you _do that_! What's wrong with you!"

Instead of a verbal response, I felt his hand fly up again, slamming against my skin as he counted, following through with three more—admittedly, softer—spanks and reaching five. He laughed through his sixth one, which felt much more rough despite his laughter. I gritted my teeth, exhaling deeply, but shocked by the realization both Harley and I were still aroused, hard and rubbing against one another as the man twisted his hips up as he kept going with his slaps.

"Ten," he counted, stroking my hair with his other hand.

"Harley…" I breathed, burying my head into the sheets and biting my bottom lip now.

I felt a stinging tingle on my bottom, the formation of numbness but current pain lingering itself over my flesh. I continued biting my lip, not believing how this ache was coinciding with the immense delight of Harley's hardness rubbing against my own, our skin in such wonderful contact.

"Eleven," Harley voiced, right after another contact on my bottom from his energetic, firm palm. Then, after yet another, he added, "Twelve."

I closed my eyes, gripping the sheets with my palm as I kept pushing my forehead deeper and deeper into the mattress. Less than a second later, the final blow came, his palm roughly slapping onto my flesh, adding to the numb hurt of tingles flowing on my skin.

"Thirteen."

I gasped, catching my breath as I realized it was over. The man flipped me back over, pinning me down with his hands and forcing a deep, long kiss on my lips as he reached down, massaging my bruised bottom.

Harley licked his lips and kissed my forehead briefly. "Sorry, but it's tradition. And, from the feeling of _this,_"—he enveloped his hand around my covered erection—"you're not too negatively affected."

"I'm numb!" I shouted, shutting my eyes tightly.

"You liked it, you little kinky tart," he insisted, pulling me close and claiming my lips again. He twisted his hips down, grating our erections together in thrusting, driving motions.

"It hurts," I admitted, pursing my lips. "It stings."

Harley tucked his hand beneath the material of the underwear, encircling his hand around my hardness again and thrusting it against his palm with more speed than he had before. I knew he was desperate to make me forget about the pain that was burning on my flesh. I lifted my hips to reach his touch, scooting myself down so I was directly under him, keeping my eyes closed the entire time so I wouldn't have to deal with his lusty expression.

"You're wonderful, Max, just wonderful," he then gushed. "Taking a slap that hard and still proving to be aroused as well. Fuck, I want to be inside you _right now._"

I didn't protest, but I felt so confused by how his smacks could be that powerful, and yet, now, he lacked true anger in his words and movements. I threw my head back, feeling him place a hand behind me, brushing his hand up and down my bottom until he transferred his ministrations against my entrance, teasing me distantly. He lifted my legs up in a familiar way, then pulling my hips closer to his before he squirmed between my spread thighs and kissed me on the neck.

His hands concentrated on pampering my bottom for a long while, up until he slid off the undergarments, leaving them to dangle at my ankles and forcing me to shake them off myself.

"Harley," I whispered, placing a hand at the back of his neck to keep his mouth where it was. "I should be angry at you, for what you did."

Harley chuckled before he wet his hand, leading it down to his erection and moistening it in preparation. He did this a couple of times, sensing I probably wanted absolutely no pain at this point.

"That's because you're _wonderful,_" he then said. "You like it when I bite and play rough, huh?"

I didn't answer. I just breathed in some air, gulping a bit as the man began pressing into my body, gripping my leg between his arms as he gasped in disbelief at the pressure we both felt. My muscles constricted in pain, but settled when Harley stroked my hardness between one of his hands and he leaned down, sliding his tongue between my lips and kissing me wantonly.

The man adjusted himself, leaning his weight on one arm and then keeping me up with the other beneath my knee. He thrust forward, fully penetrating my body and causing me to gasp in surprise at the burning pressure that spread me so uncomfortably. But, he kept rocking his hips, allowing my body to get used to the constriction, and like always, begin to enjoy the way his hardness felt in certain parts of me.

"_Ughnn,_ Harley, you—!" I moaned out, clenching my fists around the jutting bones of his shoulders. I threw my legs fully around his hips, remembering how he enjoyed that and remembering how _I _liked how it felt, too.

Harley stilled my squirming, an attempt to get his mouth back on mine, and I happily obliged to cooperating. He drove himself into my body again, continuously thrusting in and out. He then grunted in a different sort of way, looking down at me in what I thought might have been frustration.

"Max," he started, closing his eyes for a moment, "I know it's your birthday and all, but I'm desperate for some of your faunlet-y movements, so do me a favor and stop this frigidity."

"_What_?" I demanded, but he kept pumping into my body, seeming very satisfied in my book. "I put my legs around you!" I argued, turning red from the verbal description.

"I know, I know," he dismissed, twisting his hips up and driving forward roughly. "But, more, darling, _more._"

"I'm not frigid," I seethed.

"Ooh, getting defensive are we?" he wondered. "Then prove you're not," he suggested next, stopping completely and just looming over me with a grin.

"Harley…" I complained, wanting him to move. The temperature in his body was high, and I noticed that the damp sweat was sticking our thighs together. I furrowed my brow, but soon realized he truly was not going to move on his own. I lifted my hips, forcing his hardness to sink into my body and making both of us gasp at the slow, slick entry.

"Mm, Max, I want you to try something," the man then whispered into my ear, kissing the side of my head. "Will you?"

"It's my birthday," I noted.

He teased me by sliding himself out of my body a bit, allowing his hips to twirl in the process. "It is, and this will definitely add to the thrill of your coming-of-age."

I blinked, both confused but too concentrated on the feeling of his teasing to truly care what he meant. I opened my mouth to tell him to knock it off and just _move, _but the man slid himself _out _of my body, pursing his lips as a sign of being unable to stand the removal.

"Harley, what are you doing?" I demanded, feeling him move away from me and causing my legs to drop from around his hips.

The man swooped his two powerful arms around me, flipping himself over and forcing me to come with him. He was now on his back with me straddling him, and he wiggled himself up, his back aligned with the headboard and his hands gripping my hips. I blushed at the feeling of him beneath me, and the desperation and _need _that ran through my body in a greedy way.

"Max," he said, smiling and urging me to rise up a bit to hover over his hard and still slick erection.

I stared in uncertainty as he guided my body around, eventually pushing my hips down and causing me to allow his erection into my body again. I gasped, a new sort of pressure filling me in a more exposed, accessible way. I shut my eyes, feeling the burn that I hadn't quite felt since my very first time. It was incredibly different this way; it felt like he was much deeper in my body and stretching me much more painfully.

Harley put a hand to my back, wanting me to lean forward, our chests fused. I rested my head on his shoulder, placing both my arms beneath his underarms and gaining a great ability to move on top of him. Harley moaned in delight, lolling his head back and gripping my hips again, trying to push me up so I would begin moving.

"Harley, why…?" I breathed out, my muscles clenching and causing him to moan in delight, despite my movements being unintentional.

"Because I want you to prove to me you're not some pathetic frigid boy," he answered, grinning. "Now, darling, _go on._"

The man lifted his hips, causing me to thrust back down and unexpectedly sending a shiver of delight all the way through my body. I closed my eyes, unsteady in my next move before he gripped me tightly in his arms. I did the same, clutching him forward and encouraging myself to rise my hips and push myself back down. Harley was pleased, obvious from his verbal shout and his sudden grip on my hardness. He moved his hand around, pumping me as my hips rose and fell, sliding his erection into my body.

"Ah, _Max_!" he muttered, smiling widely and assisting me in forcing himself to drive into my body, hard and fast, with much more intensity than I ever imagined.

I shut my eyes again, keeping them closed this time. I balanced myself on his shoulder and thrust, grinding our bodies into such commanding contact that I felt my own movements cause Harley's pumping around my hardness to speed-up. I couldn't help but whisper the man's name, my breathing hitched as I allowed myself to move up and down, over and over until my muscles tightened, and I leaned against the man, letting out my release into his hand. Harley pushed himself up as he stopped, and he climaxed soon after, yelling my name in an almost violent way before leaned backwards, exhausted.

I tried my best to catch my breath quickly, but it was no use. I was completely at loss of air, so completely drained and dazed. Harley adjusted himself so he could lie on his back completely, but I remained on top of him, still mounting his body and still having his hardness buried inside me.

Harley reached up, stroking the side of my stomach. "_That_, Maximus," he began, an already whimsical grin on his lips, "was an absolute delight. Well done, my sweet." He wiped his hand somewhere out of my view, seemingly just against the side of the bed.

Color rose to my face at his words, and I leaned my face against his chest, sighing heavily. "Harley…" I simply said.

The man rubbed my bottom and chuckled. "Are you okay _here_?" he wondered.

"I really shouldn't be!" I exclaimed. "Those spankings really did hurt."

"I know, and I apologize. But, any boy who can keep his arousal as I beat him up a bit is just _my kind of _lad. Not to mention you can always take it as hard as I can give, you little faunlet."

I blushed heavily, and I was glad my face was pressed against his chest so he couldn't see the color. The man wrapped his arms around me and kissed my forehead. I wasn't sure how well I had truly done, as Harley had always been the one on top before. Although I was already having trouble thinking about it without turning redder and redder, I had to admit it was much more tiring to have to do the work, although Harley was quite insistent on keeping his hips twisting and rising.

"When you were spanking me," I said, pursing my lips between the pause, "you were also touching me."

"It's a lovely combination of two very different things," the man finished off, sitting up and causing me to do the same, although still in his lap. He kissed me, then continued, "Happy birthday, my darling."

"Thanks," I shrugged out, "but I'm still unsure about the underwear."

Harley smiled and searched for the things in the tangled mess of sheets. Instead of finding them, he found the umbrella, so he took it in his hands, popping it open and looming the thing over our heads in a playful way. He then twirled it between his fingers, showing off the baton-like trick.

"I've told you that's bad luck," I warned him again, taking it from his hands and closing it. "We really don't need that, especially after dealing with Drew and his threats about telling May."

As I held the umbrella in my hands again, I noticed Harley had tied a yellow tag at the end of it, reading off: _To Max, my adorable, sweet faunlet. _I made a face, rolling my eyes. Still, I didn't have the heart to tear it off, as it was an extension to the gift, I thought.

"Well, May's busy wherever," Harley voiced, "so I doubt she has time to listen to the garbage _that prep _spews."

"Yeah, but what if, for some reason, she _does _listen? What will she do? She might tell my parents! Who knows what _they'll_ do!" I sighed heavily, letting my shoulders sag.

"_Don't worry_, darling," he coaxed, lifting my chin and forcing me to look at him. "But, speaking of your parents, didn't they get you something?"

"Oh, yeah, the card!" I exclaimed. "I forgot all about that!" I climbed off the bed, rushing over to where I left my bag and digging out the card. I walked back over to the bed, sitting next to Harley with my legs crossed.

Harley rolled onto his stomach, leaning his head into his arms and sighing. "Whatever they wrote can't be better than what we just did," he teased, grinning lopsided.

I rolled my eyes and opened the envelope. Inside, there were two cards. I rose an eyebrow and opened the first one, reading aloud, "_Dear Max: You're thirteen now, and that means two things—one, you've been traveling for three years, and two, you're now considered a teenager. You've always been such a strong and independent son, and we are very proud of you. I hope you spend your birthday doing something you love. Love always, Mom and Dad._"

"Something you love?" the man repeated. "Hmm…!"

"Be quiet," I demanded, setting the card down and mulling over the words. "It's nice hearing a congratulations without mentions of May," I then noted.

Harley laughed, but then let his eyes drop to the other card in the envelope. "What's that other card?" he asked.

I took it out and scanned the card. Immediately, I recognized the handwriting. It was from May. I gaped a couple of times, unsure whether or not I should read this one out loud. I looked over at Harley, and I knew my expression was enough to reveal everything. Sure enough, the man's brow furrowed, and he seemed to instantly become tense and possessive.

"Um," I stuttered, letting my eyes narrow as I was unable to get myself to say anything intelligent.

I began reading the card myself, her thin, girlie handwriting saying:

_Max, I know the two of us haven't talked in quite sometime, but I hope you know that I still love and care about you. You're my brother—my only one at that—and I feel that the two of us still share a deep and strong connection that no one can take away. I can't believe you're thirteen, as you always seemed wise beyond your years. I hope you are doing well in Johto, and perhaps you have met some friends along the way, like we always used to with Ash and Brock. I'm doing fine myself, but I truly just wanted to wish you a happy birthday, and if you have a chance, please write or call me. I miss you. I hope you feel the same about me._

_- May_

I put the letter down and pursed my lips, not wanting my uneasy breathing to be revealed. Although my eyes weren't focused, I felt Harley take the card, reading it for himself rather quickly. When he was done, he threw the letter down, making a loud grunt of disapproval. If he was going to say anything negative, I didn't want to hear it, and I was ready to chide him if he did.

But, instead, he said, "That was considerate of her, I suppose." He shrugged.

"Yeah," I answered, "it was, actually." I picked up the cards and replaced them in the envelope, looking up to him in slight confusion.

What was I supposed to do now? This was the first time May had wrote me anything since we stopped talking. I hadn't even prepared myself for the possibility she'd acknowledge my birthday, as she never had in the past, and not because she was cruel, but because she probably guessed I _didn't _want to hear from her. But, _now, _when I was just starting to work up the courage to contact her, _she_ contacted _me_.

I sighed, trying to flatten out the feeling that was tugging at me. I almost felt like _crying, _to be honest. So many thoughts and emotions were resurfacing: the devotion I used to have to my sister, the two of us always being together, the way we would always rely on each other. What had happened to all of that? How did my sister and I get to where we were now?

"Max," Harley called out, giving me a concerned look.

I looked up at him again with the same puzzled expression. "Harley, what am I supposed to do?"

The man shrugged. "It's up to you, darling," he said, lying back and putting his arms behind his head.

My sister used to make me so happy, and it never occurred to me that one day we'd stop speaking to each other. The uncomfortable strain between us had lasted almost three years, and in the back of my mind, it had _always _bothered me. There were some times when I wasn't even sure I would be able to handle how saddened the whole situation made me. But, it was Harley who had made me feel better. Being with him completely erased my loneliness, and with him, I had companionship… _and more. _I had a feeling that I could survive the problems with May now that Harley was with me. Was that healthy to always be on bad terms with someone though? And, what if, for some reason, Harley and I decided to stop traveling together? Would the pain of May resurface?

"I don't even know if I want to get in touch with her anymore," I griped, throwing the envelope on the floor in a haste. "I don't even think about her that much anymore."

"Just a few days ago at the Center—when we made PokéBlock—you were nearly in tears over the situation," Harley pointed out, and I had to say, I was surprised he acknowledged this.

"I know," I admitted. "And, you told me that I was brave, and I could be brave enough to mend things up. But, now—now that it might actually be happening—it's almost like I don't even care anymore! Harley… I have _you._"

Something in the man softened, and he was able to smile fully. "Indeed you do," he assured, moving the mess of the tissue paper, the bag, the umbrella and the underwear all to the nightstand.

"Ugh, I have no idea what to do, Harley!" I shouted, putting my hands to my head. "I'm so lost!"

Harley put a hand on my shoulder and leaned in sideways. "You know how I feel about her, Max," the man admitted in a sigh.

"But, I want you to tell me what to do, Harley," I repeated, "because I have no idea!"

"Max," the man said, his tone changing, "exactly_ what _do you miss about your sister?"

"Everything," I said, "but a lot of it has lessened since I started hanging around you." I shrugged, not wanting to babble on and on about it.

Harley was quiet now, which was sort of a first when I really thought about it. I bit my lip, unsure what to say myself, but feeling a weird discomfort between the man and I. I think he wanted to mention something to me, but was either hesitant or unsure how to phrase it. I rose an eyebrow, urging him to speak.

The man rolled his eyes. "Max, would you ever fuck your sister?"

My eyes widened, and I gaped widely. "_Harley_!" I screamed, giving him an absolutely shocked and horrified look. "What is your problem! Why would you ask me something like _that_?"

"It's a serious question, Max," the man said, unnerved by my shout. "You and your sister were awfully close, and it's only natural of me to wonder if you two might've been _that _close."

"Did Drew put that in your head?" I demanded, glaring at him.

"I thought about it before, I must admit," he revealed, "but, Drew did mention something."

"She's my sister," I grunted. "What's wrong with you?"

Harley began laughing now, and I sensed true amusement in it. "Drew spouted something about you kissing May for comfort or something like that."

"Huh?" I voiced, confused. "Harley, we're siblings! It didn't mean _that._ I've never been with anyone before you—I never even kissed anyone before. _Nobody. _Not a girl, not a guy, no one!"

Harley rolled his eyes again. "I know," the man confirmed.

"Then why'd you ask _that_?"

"Because she's a cretin, and who knows what kind of spell she put you under," he spewed.

"All this coming from the man who pressured me into getting back in touch with her in the first place," I mumbled.

"Well, what good will it do, Max? You just said _you have me, _so what on earth do you need her for?"

"To be my sister, I guess," I told him. I readjusted my position, sitting on my knees and moving in front of the man. "I don't know what I'm going to do about telling her about us," I then admitted.

Harley put both of his hands on my shoulders. "Don't let her ruin it, Max," he stated, sounding like a warning. "You've been happy lately, and I prefer happy Max over snotty, depressed Max." He planted a kiss on my lips, firm and hard.

"Are you jealous of her?" I asked, unable to help it. "Because, you have no reason to be. She's just my sister—I don't share the same kind of things with her that, um, _we _share, Harley."

"I know that," the man said. "But, Max, the way you fucking talk about her sometimes irritates me."

He hadn't quite answered the question, and I imagined that yes, he was quite jealous of May, even though I wasn't even on good terms with her. This disturbed me. What if I were to actually call or write to May? Would Harley completely freak out on me? But, the idea that he actually thought I might've _wanted _May _that way_ was boggling. She was my sister, and the two of us shared everything siblings should. I would admit though, I had always noticed rather intimate things about May, but was that really wrong? Her smell, her clothing and stuff—what was wrong with noticing that? It wasn't as if the two of us had ever done anything "abnormal" together.

However, unlike many things, the thought of maybe being with May in a much more intimate way… well, it didn't scare me all that much. It was more of Harley's acknowledgment of it that startled me, but other than that, there was something very familiar and comforting in the thought of our relationship being about companionship and—

—_stop thinking, _I told myself.

Disturbed by my realizations, I shook away my thoughts and just said, "Well, I don't know what I'm going to do right now, so I'm going to take your advice from before and just not worry about what's going on tomorrow or two minutes from now or in an hour."

"Good!" Harley exclaimed. "Now let's try and enjoy your birthday and stop fighting, mmkay?"

"I don't want to do anything though," I admitted. "I'm not in the mood to go out."

"Neither am I, so that's all the more reason I can keep you locked up in here, all to myself," he whispered, pulling me towards him and into his embrace. "But, it's obligatory for me to ask if there's anything my darling requests as a birthday wish."

I smiled, truly considering whether or not I wanted anything. The weird thing was, I knew that whatever I said—no matter how crazy—Harley would probably follow through. He was almost at my beck and call, but I had no desire to use him that way; I wasn't malicious enough.

"Hmm," I mused, making a mock thinking face. "This could be fun," I admitted.

Harley snickered and forced me into a powerful kiss. "We could fuck again," he told me through a grin. "Just a suggestion."

"I'm pretty sure I can think of _something_ besides that," I told him.

Harley rolled his eyes, mockingly suggesting, "Well, then, _think_."

"I want to talk."

"Talk!" the man echoed. "What fun is that?"

"It might not be fun, but maybe we'll learn something about each other," I said. "I always wanted to ask you where you lived in Slateport City," I then admitted.

Harley gave a grin, obviously some sort of pride forming. "Well, you've been there," he started, "so do you remember the luscious beaches they had? It's not that different from here."

"Yeah, I remember," I replied.

"I live in one of the many beach houses there," he revealed jovially. "It was actually my father's, but when he kicked the bucket, I decided I wanted to live _there_. It's quite the beauty, and being taken care of my a cleaning lady so it stays spick and span."

"I had a feeling that was going to be your answer," I told him. "So, you have access to your own private beach, I suppose?"

"Most definitely." He grinned, flashing his teeth and all. "Maybe I can show it to you."

I blinked. "Really?" I wondered.

"Yes," he said with a nod. "You know, darling, the two of us have quite some time before you have your final challenge at the Blackthorn City Gym, and I can imagine that sticking around Johto for all those weeks would be quite boring."

I started to smile. "You want me to come back with you to Slateport?"

Harley coughed in a silly way, a deliberate distraction for himself. "Yes, Max," he confirmed. "It's quite big, and I'm sure you'll enjoy being able to swim whenever the fuck you want. And, I'll enjoy _you_ swimming."

I scoffed. "That doesn't sound like it will benefit my training though," I complained. "Clair is a really strong trainer, and if I go all the way to Hoenn with you until she returns to her Gym then I have to make it worthwhile."

"We will train, of course, of course," he said, waving his hands around. "But, we can also relax and you will have the honor of spending time in Harley's household."

"How would we get there?" I then asked. "And, how long would it take, more importantly?"

"We can buy tickets here and take a boat," he explained, "and it should only be a couple of days." He ran his hands through my hair, trying to get me to answer with a definite _yes._

"It sounds fun," I admitted, "but I'm a bit worried about _who _might be lingering there. I'm sure you know a lot of people."

"A lot of people as in the ones I _fucked_?" he clarified for me. "Well, maybe, but don't let that stop you from coming with me. Think of the fun, darling!"

"H-has anyone else stayed there with you?" I wondered in a soft tone.

"No, actually," the man answered right off the bat. "I mean, I'll be honest, there have been men of the sort who have stepped foot there, but none whom I let shack up with me, if that's what you're worried about."

"Hm," I voiced.

Harley enticed me, trailing a hand down my body and to my hip where he massaged casually. "If you say yes, darling," he began, kissing my neck and dipping me back in his arms, "I'll order you one hell of an ice cream sundae right here and now."

"Wouldn't you do that for me anyway since it's my birthday?" I asked, allowing him to kiss my shoulder blade and then lightly bite my neck.

"Perhaps," he said. "_However, _we can do more than just eat it. We can have a bit of fun with the dessert, if you know what I mean, sweet thing."

I furrowed my brow. "That would be weird," I stated. "And, sort of unoriginal. Doesn't everyone do that?"

Harley began laughing into my shoulder. "Who cares? It will be fun, and it's an excellent way to celebrate your birthday. Besides, it's how we met!"

"I think I'm going to have to pass on this, Harley," I rejected, giving him a considerate look to appease him. "It's too much trouble."

"No, it's not!" he argued, pushing me off him rather roughly and crawling his way over to the other side of the bed so he could reach the phone. He picked it up, asked for room service and very quickly demanded they bring up some sort of ice cream sundae concoction. He slammed down the phone when he was done, turning to grin at me happily. "See."

I rolled my eyes, but smiled through it. "Again, this doesn't really benefit me." I relaxed, lying on my back comfortably and getting under the sheets to cover myself, fearing I had been naked and exposed too long.

"Oh, will you stop saying that, you little faunlet?" he ordered, following suit and getting under the sheets. He dragged me to his side with a strong grip of his arm, forcing me to press against his chest. "You enjoy every bit of ravishment I dote on you."

I reached up, feeling Harley's hair for the first time in a while. I remembered when I had pulled it during our night outside and how much he seemed to get a kick out of that. Harley was into so many odd things, and I wasn't sure what else there was that he hadn't admitted. He liked to bite me, spank me, have his hair pulled, be dominated in some sort of way, and now he insisted we try something with ice cream.

"What else do you like to do, Harley?" I wondered. "You are really _into _some kinky—as you put it—stuff, but I'm a little worried what else there might be."

"Nothing too extreme," he guaranteed. "But, if you want to know the wildest thing, I can tell you. Although, to be honest, we sort of already experimented with the mix."

"Wildest?" I repeated, furrowing my brow. "Um, I'm sort of scared what that might be."

"Well," he started, rubbing my back, "I do like it when instead of just the occasional bites and hair pulls aren't so _occasional, _you know? And, I like maybe double the power."

I made a puzzled face. "I don't get it," I admitted.

"I like when it's rough the entire time, Maximus," he bluntly put it. "And, I mean _rough. _Bruises for evidence and all."

I scrunched up my face in dissatisfaction, finding that confession really disturbing. Did he really want to be beaten and to inflict the pain in return? I knew it was a kink, more of the fantasy orientated variety, and he'd probably never want to truly beat the living daylight's out of someone with a true, malicious and vicious intention, but it was still scary. Instead of saying anything too negative though, I just shrugged my shoulders and pointed out:

"And, _yet_, you don't like voyeurism."

"_Why_?" he wondered. "_Do you_? Because I have nothing against it, it's just not my thing, but if _you_ are interested I might be able to broaden my horizons."

"That's not what I meant," I defended. "I just meant that out of everything you like, you don't like _that._" I shook my head in disbelief.

"If you want," Harley said, "you can hit me."

I scoffed again. "I don't want to hurt you," I very firmly stated. "It bothers me that you'd even want to hurt _me_, even if it's just a kink."

"It's not the same as if I were some bully," Harley then explained. "Certain pain is just—oh, how should I put this?—_rather arousing, _I suppose."

"Well, I guess there is something tingly about it," I admitted, but I felt so lame doing so. "I mean, I don't like it when I fall down and get scraped, and I never have enjoyed any sort of pain I've been in before. But, when you bit me while, well, _you know,_ it was exciting. I guess." I shrugged.

"See," he voiced satisfactorily, "it's hard to explain, yes, but, damn, it's a delight. So, will you hit me sometime? Unexpectedly, I'd prefer."

"I don't know," I answered, still stroking his hair.

Harley chuckled and kissed the hand I was using to comb through his hair. "The Maximus I met in Goldenrod City would never be able to hold a conversation about this sort of thing as long as you have, my dear."

"Drew told me that if I've done it, I should have no problem talking about it," I said with a shrug. "I think he's right on some level. I'm more comfortable talking about it with you though, not him."

"Pfft, Drew's words of wisdom are pretty pathetic," he droned. "If you ask me, I think he wanted in on dirty little descriptions of how far I've buried my cock in your tight, little ass." He smiled wickedly, continuing to play with my hand by squeezing and kissing it.

"Harley," I complained, still uncomfortable when he put it _that way. _"I think Drew would've rather died."

"Then why'd he prod into it so badly, huh?" Harley questioned. "Maybe he's a fag, too."

"I doubt it," I quickly said. "I couldn't see him wanting anything to do with men."

"I'd fuck him."

"No you wouldn't!" I shouted. "You hate him!"

Harley shrugged. "Maybe so, but he might be worth the trouble for that ass of his."

I glared at Harley now, very offended. The man laughed, but quickly patted my back to assure me he was joking (at least on some level, I assumed). He then kissed my nose, keeping close to my face as he asked:

"Would you fuck him?"

"_No,_" I replied firmly. "He's gross and weird, and I _can't even _imagine something like that with him."

Harley rose both his eyebrows. "Who would you shag if I wasn't around then? We've already ruled out our sister, apparently."

"I don't know, Harley," I said, slightly frustrated. I had told him time and time again that I was never _really_ attracted to anyone in my life besides him. What more did he want?

"What about Lance? You've met him, so what did you think?"

"Nothing," I assured. "He was a friend. The end!"

"Christ," the man muttered, pretty surprised. "I should take you to a prostitute just for experimentation."

"I hope you're not serious," I droned.

"Of course I'm not," he then confessed. "I don't want a single person touching you, male or female. I'd have to kill them. And then maybe you, too. You're mine, Max, got it?"

"I think," I said, pretty bewildered.

Just then, there was a knock at the door, obviously from the room service attendant. Harley sighed in an annoyance to have to get up, but eventually did so anyway, grabbing his robe and tying it properly. Out of my sight, I heard him answer the door, saying something to the attendant and dismissing them promptly. He came back in the room, holding a tray with a large bowl of vanilla ice cream, drenched in a hardened shell of chocolate syrup. He was also holding a yellow envelope.

He sat down on the bed, placing the tray down next to him and holding up the envelope with a raised brow. "This," he said, "is apparently for you."

"Huh?" I voiced, taking it in my hands and looking at it front and back. "What is it?"

Harley shrugged. "The man said it was dropped off this morning," he explained. "I bet I know who sent it though."

My expression flattened. "Oh," I then muttered, tearing open the sealed paper and taking out what was a _letter._ I looked at it for a moment, skimming here and there, before confirming, "Yeah, it's from Drew."

"Splendid," the man grunted. "Care to share his fine words with me?"

I was a bit nervous to read the letter out loud, but figured I was going to show it to the man anyway. So, I cleared my throat and nodded towards Harley, revealing that I would indeed read it out to him.

"_Max: I know you probably don't want to hear from me, and that's why I chose to write a letter instead. First off, happy birthday—I hope you spend your day well. Secondly, now that you're considered a teenager, I think you ought to be taking it upon yourself to be making decisions that benefit your well-being." _I paused, raising an eyebrow.

"How the fuck did he even know where we're staying?" Harley then demanded.

"I suppose he knew you'd be at the biggest hotel in the city." I shrugged. "Anyway: _Just because you're a teenager doesn't mean you should be in a sexual relationship, a sexual relationship with a man twice your age. Being with Harley is not healthy, and I suggest you get away from him. Men like him only care about themselves, and what you have to offer is purely benefiting himself._"

"Oh, for Christ's sake," Harley grunted, folding his arms.

"_When I was with your sister, she spoke wonders of you. She loves you dearly and the strain between you two always hurt her. Get in contact with her, mend the past, and please be honest about what Harley and you have done—or, more honestly, what Harley has done to you—because I'm sure you'll feel better once it's done and over._ _If you need anything, you know where I'm staying. Take care._"

Harley ripped the paper from my hand and read some parts over himself. When he was through, he let out another annoyed grunt and crumpled it up, enraged. "That fucker!" he shouted, crumpling the envelope, too. "What the _fuck _does he know?"

I shrugged again. "He must really think the situation is bad."

Harley made some sort of snarl, absolutely irritated. "I want to kill him."

"I thought you wanted to sleep with him."

"Never mind _that _anymore," the man dismissed. He then looked at me, extending his arm out and urging me to come closer to him. "No one is taking my Maximus away. I'll have to bloody shoot them if they do."

I rolled my eyes at the man's distress. "I think he's just trying to make it more serious than it is," I admitted. "I mean, honestly, what am I to him? Why should he care?"

"Maybe he's trying to impress May and win her back," Harley said, pushing against me until he forced me down on my back, beneath him. "Don't let it bother you, darling."

"Me?" I wondered. "I should be telling you the same thing. You're more concerned with it than I am."

"If I didn't have you around, Maximus," the man said, "then who would I have to watch prance around in his faunlet-y way and witness dress up in his faunlet-y undies, hmm?"

"I'm pretty sure you could survive. You did before I came around."

"That's because I had no idea such a thing existed! You've opened my eyes, dear, and I'm positive you're the only one who can keep up with me."

"Let's just get our mind off it, okay?" I told him.

I was sure Harley wanted to rant some more, but he repressed it. Seemingly to seethe in annoyance now, I craned my neck and kissed him on the mouth, trying to make him feel better. It was sort of ironic that he was more affected by the letter than myself, but it was typical of him to be overdramatic, I supposed. However, he began to relax against my liplock, just a bit taken back when I slipped my tongue into his mouth and pulled him down, closer to me.

I was unnerved by my persistence. Harley and I had done this so many times that I couldn't help become somewhat used to it. It was still awkward at times—and I knew that with what he was planning to do with that ice cream it was about it get _very odd_—but it was still Harley, who I had grown used to, and perhaps, trust. Drew could try and convince me it was unhealthy, but how could it be? How could being with someone this way, in a way that made me feel _so alive, _be wrong?

My heart still fluttered and sank at the memory of the umbrella he gave me. It was so personal and sweet, a memento of when we had met up in Goldenrod City. I thought about it now, thought about what would've happened had I never agreed to eat lunch with Harley that day, or if I hadn't chosen to visit him at his hotel the next morning. What would I be doing now, without him? What would _he _be doing? I wouldn't have had half as much fun and wouldn't have gotten anywhere quite as quickly.

I couldn't explain the emotions that were running through me now, either awakened or brought to life by the present he had given me. The tug in my heart was unlike anything I had ever felt, so personal and deep that I couldn't even analyze it. All I knew was that kissing him and being close to him now were comforting the craze, and it felt like by coinciding, everything was perfect.

"Harley," I breathed, looking at him seriously, "thank you for the presents." I might've already thanked him, but I wanted to say it again. I wanted to say everything to him that made sense to me and related to the emotions that were burning up inside my mind and heart.

"You're welcome, my sweet," he said back to me. "Now, let's have a little fun." He sat up, sliding the tray over to us and picking up one of the spoons from beside the bowl. He scooped up as much ice cream as the utensil could hold. Instead of dropping it on me, like I expected, he lingered it around my mouth, urging me to eat it.

I made a face, sensing how cold it was, but reached forward, taking it in my mouth and licking the spoon clean. The temperature made my entire body shiver and he took another scoop, eating it himself. He smiled at me, licking his lips and stroking my shoulder blade. The man then prepared another spoonful and instantly dropped it on my chest. Goose bumps swept across my skin, and I jerked my legs up in a terrible shock.

"It's cold!" I exclaimed.

Harley said nothing, but smiled. He bent down, extending his tongue out and making long, warm swipes across my skin, licking up the ice cream and being sure to press powerfully against my skin. I shivered even more, and I felt his hand slide down my stomach, touching my naked body to trap me into a wild lust.

The man moved up, now using his fingers in ministrations between my legs as he kissed me fully, moaning loudly into my mouth. I pressed him against me with a single arm, using my other hand to brush through his hair. I did not normally touch him this much, but something foreign was washing through me, wanting to respond with a touch for every touch he gave me.

The man reached down with the spoon, filling it with more of the sundae—and this time, with a lot of chocolate syrup—and very slowly dripped it down onto my shoulder. I lolled my head back, unable to stand the mixture of the hot syrup and the freezing cold ice cream. Harley immediately lapped his tongue at it, ensuring it wouldn't slide down my skin. All the meanwhile, his hand fondled me and he adjusted himself properly pressing his arousal into mine and causing me to softly moan.

Harley grinned as he let some of the ice cream pour onto his own shoulder. He leaned down, jutting out his shoulder blade and pressing it against my mouth. I thought about the teasing way he stroked his tongue along my skin and emulated it to the best of my ability. I licked up the vanilla flavor, feeling it melt in my mouth before I swallowed it. The man was about to move away, but I kissed his chin, continuing to lick around his face until I reached his mouth, kissing him properly. He moaned in delight, spreading my legs with his arms and forcing me to hold them up, bent.

"Ah, my darling Max," he murmured, pumping my erection in his hand and pressing himself up against my thigh to thrill himself. He handed me the spoon now, insisting, "Do as you please, my faunlet."

Shakily, I dipped the spoon into the melting ice cream, scooping up the gunk and spilling some as I traveled it back between us. Harley kept moving, grating our bodies as he spit in his hand and prepared himself to penetrate me. I ended up spilling the ice cream on myself, most of it landing on my stomach, and though it was an accident, I was sure Harley was going to believe I did it on purpose.

Sure enough, he laughed, but he then swiped his hand across my stomach and then offered his soaked hand to my mouth. I licked it off, going between his fingers with my tongue and remembering how he had done this with my release before. Pleased, Harley continued with his movements, dampening his hand again, but this time, teasing me absurdly by pressing his wet fingers into my entrance, quick and rather harshly.

I gasped at the invading digits, squirming away for a moment before remembering that I just needed to relax. I busied myself by taking some more ice cream from the bowl, dripping it on Harley's upper-arm. I saw goose bumps developed all down his arm, and I rose slowly, licking the melting trail off his flesh until I reached his shoulder. Harley smiled pleasantly, then gripped my thighs with his arms, pushing them up and moving forward. I shut my eyes, feeling the tip of his hardness press into me. He stroked my erection as he slid in fully, causing me to both moan, and later, gasp.

Harley took the spoon from me, moving in and out of my body very slowly, and practically shoveled the ice cream onto the utensil, dumping it all on my neck and getting a lot of it on the pillow beneath me. He gripped my legs hard, pulling them around his hips and managing to collide our chests so he could reach my shoulder and lap his warm, wet tongue on my flesh to clean up the ice cream. At this point, he began thrusting into me at a much speedier pace, pushing into my body and making my breathing more uneven than it already was.

"Harley!" I shouted, throwing my head back as I felt his tongue reach behind my ear.

He bit my earlobe rather roughly, then flipped his hair in front of my face, a clear signal that he wanted me to pull the strains. I was hesitant, but eventually reached up, tugging slowly before he grunted in impatience, causing me to yank. Instead of grunting in pain, he laughed, continuing to drive into me, hard and fast. I pulled again and then took the spoon, managing to drip quite a bit on Harley's arms.

Harley leaned in, pressing his face into my neck and moaning several combinations of curses, pet names and lusty phrases. I reached for the entire bowl now, knowing there was only a bit of melted ice cream left. I tilted the bowl, forcing the rest of the ice cream to fall onto me. Between stifled moans and pants, the man laughed, lapping up the rest of the mess, clamping his lips around my neck and sucking the very last essence of the dessert away. I turned my head, forcing his lips on mine before I rocked my hips against his thrusts, feeling him twist his own to add to the pleasure.

The tightness in my muscles developed, and I felt myself ready to reach my climax. I matched Harley's thrusts with powerful upward pushes of my hips, and I felt the worn-out pressure in my muscles reach its maximum, forcing me to let out my release onto Harley's stomach. Harley's arms tightened around my thighs, pressing hard as he came, too, shouting out my name in a lusty haze. We both quivered in some sort of aftershock, and he rolled off me, pulling out and giving a very loud sigh.

I immediately felt cold, being away from Harley so suddenly. I scooted my way towards, him, pressing my chin against his chest. Harley wrapped a single arm around me, pulling me close. He kissed my forehead and then patted my bottom roughly.

"Now that was fun," he finally said after catching his breath.

"I feel sticky," I admitted, feeling up and down my shoulder.

"Me, too," the man laughed. "But, it was worth it. God, Max, I've never been so impressed with a boy your age."

I smiled, then turned to look at the small digital clock. "It's already so late in the afternoon," I noted. "Maybe we _should _go somewhere so we don't feel like total bums. I haven't even let out of my Pokémon out today. That's not healthy for them."

Harley patted my head now. "Don't worry, we'll have plenty of time for battling and the like when we get to Slateport."

"So, you are serious about that?" I wondered, cocking my head.

"Absolutely," he assured. He gently moved me away, grabbing the tray from the bed and throwing it on the ground. He then reached for his bag near the dresser and took out his lighter and pack of cigarettes. He lit one up as he returned to the bed, exhaling deeply just as he plopped himself down. "I think I'm going to get tickets for a ship tomorrow morning."

I sat up, watching as the man flipped the pillow over that had ice cream plastered all over it. "Why do you live at a beach house? Do you even _swim_?"

"From time to time," he replied, blowing some smoke through his nostrils. "I think, Max, when we get to Slateport I am going to buy you a _huge collection _of tight, colorful bathing suits that I will _force _you to swim in everyday. We'll assign a color for each day of the week."

"Will there be a point to it?" I asked, rubbing my sticky shoulder in a haste.

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "It's part of staying in my household; you'll have to follow the rules, and that's one of them, okay?"

"What else?" I droned. "I might not want to come back to Slateport with you after all."

Harley laughed, continuing to smoke casually. "I think I'm going to bake you something, Max. If you remember—which you better!—I make wonderful treats, especially cookies."

"Yeah, I remember," I said. "But, to be honest, I don't really like cookies that much."

"Then what does Maximus want me to bake him?" he asked, extending his arm and lifting my chin.

"You decide," I told him. "I am curious to know what your baking tastes like. And, I'll be sure to be considerate, since I know how sensitive you are about your bake goods."

"Your sister had no idea what she was talking about," he seethed. "You'll see that I make the best fucking snacks on this earth, oh yes, you will!" Although his cigarette wasn't done, he extinguished the rest of it on the ashtray.

"You know, Harley, I've never had a birthday like this."

"Well, I would hope," the man retorted, raising his eyebrows. "Now, darling, are you up for a shower?"

"I thought you didn't like showers," I noted.

"Well, right now I'm not really up for soaking in ice cream gunk," he replied. He grabbed my hand, lifting me off the bed. "Come on, darling. I think I'll have quite the fun time washing your hair for you."

xxxxx

_-Harley-_

There were very few days that I could call perfect. Very few. It was always _something _within those long twenty-four hours that irritated me. Now, to be completely honest, yesterday had contained one or two negatives, such as the fact May decided to give a birthday card to Max, and then later, Drew thought it was of best interest to write him a pathetic letter; however, I was willing to call it perfect. Max's birthday had been one splendid celebration, choke-full of adorable moments between Max and I, and even better, full of shagging!

Having fallen asleep with my hair wet, it remained somewhat damp even now in the early morning. We had gone to bed early, but I supposed it was inevitable, as I had tired the poor boy out, I was sure. After our delightful little shower, Max and I had returned to bed, and I subsequently went through with ravishing the boy three more times despite our newfound cleanliness. _Three. _Count 'em! I swear, it was like some amazing miracle, Max and I. I had fucked him more than I ever did anyone else, and I still wasn't tired of him. I had a strong feeling I never would be either. How could I? He was impeccable!

Well, the day had to end sometime, much to my sadness. And now, early in the morning—painfully early thanks to falling asleep before eight o'clock—I was up and about, pacing around the hotel lobby and waiting for the tourist center to open at six o'clock sharp. I would normally never be waiting for a goddamn tourist center to open, but on this occasion, I had to if I wanted to get tickets on a ship back to Slateport City. I was alone, since Max was still in the hotel room, where I had left him a loving little note just in case he awoke.

I had to admit, Max agreeing to come back to Slateport with me was a surprise. I thought for sure he'd reject me, claiming I was trying to mess up his training or something lame like that. He had while until Clair decided to get her ass back to her Gym, so the time was all ours, I thought. It wasn't as big a deal as I thought it was going to be either. I thought the actual realization the boy was coming back to my hometown with me would eventually become uncomfortable, but it hadn't yet. It was true I didn't have the best reputation there, but Max shouldn't have been surprised if anything _too, too_ shocking was revealed about _moi_, although truthfully I couldn't think of anything that would really piss the boy off. After all, he managed to get over what Drew had to say.

That little fucking prep. I truly hated that kid now. Who the hell did he think he was, telling _my Max _to get away from me? I had done nothing to harm my faunlet. All I had done was open Max up to what a kid like him was intended to do anyway! I chuckled cruelly at my selfish thought, knowing full well that statements like that were only feeding into what Drew saw me as: a self-seeking, perverted pedophile.

As the dumb little center finally opened and prepared itself for the day, I made it a point to be the very first customer. I presented myself to the front desk, immediately explaining that I wanted two tickets for whatever ship was stopping by Slateport City. The man behind the counter said there were two ships leaving this afternoon, one which was a luxury cruise of the sort, and which would take about a day and a half to arrive at Slateport. The second option was a smaller ship, not very cruise-y but fine enough to allow each passenger a room and would take three days to get to Slateport. The option was finely obvious, I thought, so I bought two tickets for the cruise and went on my merry way back to the hotel room.

As I walked away, I examined the tickets. The ship was called the _W.T. East_, which sounded pretty lame to me. However, the man had also given me a pamphlet for the cruise and everything in there looked absolutely divine. Max and I were destined to have a wonderful time, that was for sure. I couldn't wait to get onboard at—according to the wonderful set of tickets—10 a.m. today. On my way to the elevator, I dropped by the front desk, telling them I would checking out earlier than expected.

When I arrived back in the room, I instantly noticed all the lights were turned on, a clear sign Max was awake now. I searched around the living room, not finding him, so I made my way into the bedroom, where I spotted him sitting on the floor with his Kirlia, feeding the creature that organic food.

"Ah, good morning, darling!" I addressed, sauntering over to him. I was sad to see that he was fully dressed and groomed for the day, meaning my chances of just jumping on him and having a morning like yesterday were slim.

"Morning," the boy said, getting up and letting Kirlia eat peacefully.

I presented the tickets to Max as he walked over to me, planting them smack into his eyesight. Startled, he jerked backwards until he realized what I had was harmless. He took the tickets, examining the information and then looked up at me, raising an eyebrow.

"So soon," he said. "How'd you manage to get tickets for today?"

"Olivine City and Slateport are both seaside towns, darling. I imagine they have ships going to and from quite often." I stroked the boy's cheek, running a hand through his hair after. "Are you excited?"

The boy smiled. "Yeah, actually," he revealed. "It's been a while since I've been there, and I'm really looking forward to seeing your home."

"Good," I said, putting the tickets on the table after the boy handed them back to me. "We're going to have fun, Max. Oh, yes, we will." I bent down, kissing him on the head.

"So, what are we going to do until then?" the boy inquired. "Do you want to battle?"

"Battle?" I echoed. "I just won a Contest. I don't think I need to train for anything—it's obvious I'm already doing fantastic." I grinned as I looped an arm around the boy's waist, pulling him towards me as I bent down slightly.

"Oh, please, Harley," the boy grunted, rolling his eyes. "I will beat you this time!"

I scoffed, knowing this was Max's way of rallying me up so I would indeed battle him. Part of it was working, but the more I kept the boy pressed against me, the more I wanted to simply shag the boy silly aside from everything else. I stamped a kiss on Max's shoulder and neck, faintly teasing him by rubbing up and down his back, just above his adorable ass. When my hand reached the destination fully, I pinched him, causing the boy to jump.

"Harley," he breathed, letting his head loll to the right for a second, "I'm thirteen now. I'm getting too old for this."

I began laughing, pressing my face into the boy's shoulder. "That's the poorest excuse I've ever heard," I told him. "You're at your sexual peak, boy. You should be taking up every opportunity!"

Max pushed me away gently. "Well, I'm hungry, and I want to battle," he insisted. "I'm sure whatever it is you want to do can wait for when we're on the ship. I doubt there's anything else to do."

Now I laughed even harder. "Oh, Maximus!" I exclaimed through my snickers. "Somehow, though, I think I always knew you'd say something along those lines, you little tart."

Max tugged at my arm. "Let's hurry," he said, beginning to gather up his stuff. I watched as he put away the umbrella very neatly, but then stuff the pair of underwear deep into the backpack, uncaring.

I decided that when we were on the ship—and, in Max's words, there being nothing else to do—I would have to persuade Max into wearing those little undies for at least an hour. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to handle that without jumping on the boy and having my way with him, but I'd try. Having him prance around in those for a while was all I needed to be a relatively happy man.

Smiling at the thought, I quickly packed all my stuff, too, and was ready to go in less than a minute. Max promptly returned Kirlia, and followed me out of the room. The two of us made our way out of the hotel after riding the elevator, and were greeted by the bright and burning sun outside. I was actually glad to be leaving Olivine City, because although it had only been a couple of days, I was already becoming bored. I was looking forward to returning to Slateport City with Max.

After a couple of minutes of walking, Max tugged on my arm again, but this time, so I would stop walking. "Let's eat first," Max suggested, pointing towards a cozy little restaurant on the docks that advertised breakfast.

"Fine," I agreed, walking over to an empty table, already prepared with menus, silverware, and the like. I took a seat, crossing my legs and watching Max take a seat as well. "You know, I really doubt there's anything here worth licking off your chest and neck."

Max's complexion shifted instantly to red. "You know, _that _wasn't exactly something people just think of right off the top of their head. I have a feeling you might've done that with someone else." He crossed his arms, annoyed.

I pursed my lips, amused by his comment. I wasn't really sure whether or not he was saying it to be a prick or if the issue sincerely bothered him. In either case, I decided to confess by saying, "Believe me, they didn't mean half as much to me as you do, darling."

Max gave me a very aggressive look. "I guess that's a yes then," he grunted.

"_Don't worry_ about it," I coaxed. "Do you think any of them were nearly as delightful as you? Max, must I remind you that you're the _only _faunlet I've ever had the pleasure of meeting?"

"I'm sure if—"

The waitress approached us, interrupting the boy instantly. She had a horribly phony smile printed on her young and dumb-looking face. She held a small notepad and pencil, ready to take our order. Max went first, ordering pancakes and orange juice, which I happened to believe was a disgusting combination, while I just ordered a side of toast and a cup of coffee. Afterwards, the waitress took the menus and left us, and Max continued to give me his weird little look.

"Oh, stop it," I commanded, grinning. My legs still crossed, I extended one limb, reaching out and invading Max's side of the table. Very softly, I grazed over Max's thigh, continuing to do so until I reached his crotch, which I rubbed more energetically.

Max jerked back, skidding his chair across the concrete dock in surprise. "Harley!" he shouted. Color rose to his cheeks again, and he buried his hands in his face, humiliated. A moment later however, he brought his face back up and to much to my surprise—much, much, _much—_he had a smile on a his face. It was small, but it was there.

I titled my head, interested in his bipolar behavior. "Weirdo," he decided to say, pursing his lips after. He sighed and looked up the sky. "You know, I kind of want it to rain so I can use the umbrella."

I gave him a mock-glare. "Why can't I get you this excited over the undies, Max?" I wondered, leaning my chin on my elbow and titling my head a bit.

"Because they're_ underwear_, Harley," the boy grunted.

I then perked up, snapping my fingers and grinning widely. "Hm, say, what can I do to get you to wear _only _your undies and then prance about holding the umbrella? You'll do it in private, if that helps."

"No thanks," the boy denied. "God, Harley, why do you insist on being so creepy?"

"Creepy?" I echoed. "I beg to differ. Besides, I'm positive you're into something pretty scandalous. You just haven't discovered it." I tapped my fingers on the table, giving him a satisfied look for my statement.

Max shook his head. "I doubt it," he argued. "Sundaes, being _bitten_ and being forced to pull your hair are quite enough for me."

"You forgot spankings!" I exclaimed. "Anyway, experimentation is the best way to discover what you like. And with plenty of time in Slateport, I intend to uncover it. No matter how dirty."

"When we're in Slateport," he debated, "I intend to train. You better not distract me! Or I'm not coming!"

I put a hand up, trying to calm the boy. "Fine, fine. But you cannot deny me all the time!" I told him. "Like I said before, there are regulations for staying in my household. For one, you _do _have to walk around in those undies. Honest!"

"If that's the case, I'm not coming then either."

I let out an upwards puff of breath, letting it hit my bangs. The waitress showed up again, giving us our entire order, complete with food and drinks. Max was quick to take his silverware and start digging into his pancakes, either because he was really hungry or because he wanted the conversation to end. Either way, he kept a rather annoyed expression on his face, one of which I examined closely as I spread some jam on my pieces of toast. I had a feeling he was putting on a show here, just trying to act difficult because he realized he let a truer form of himself show yesterday.

"You know," Max finally voiced, minutes flying by of silence, "the only cruise I've ever been on was the one for the Hoenn Grand Festival. Being a participant, May could invite several of her friends, so Brock, Ash and I were allowed onboard. I've been on lots of ships before, but that was the only _true cruise._"

"Ah, now see, I was already in Slateport City by then, waiting for the Festival to start," I revealed, smiling. "If only I knew what I know now, about you being one great tart. If so, I would've skipped the whole Festival and taken you back home with me." I laughed loudly.

"May would've shot you," he stated nonchalantly. "Actually, she still will when she finds out."

"When?" I echoed. "So, you've decided to tell the trol—_your sister, _I mean?"

The boy shrugged. "I don't know about _that_ yet. But, I do think I need to write back to her since she took the time to write me a birthday card and all." Max picked at his pancakes, swiping a piece around in the gooey syrup absentmindedly.

I grinned beneath my hand, which I held to my mouth casually, acting like I was itching my upper-lip. I still couldn't wait for May to find out about everything. She was too much of a bloody coward to ever murder me, so it wasn't as if I had to fear for my life. I could imagine her abandoning Max quicker than anything else, simply thinking he was a sick little fuck and cutting him off completely. Of course, that was my version of her, and in reality, all I could see her doing was kidnapping Max and hiding him out for "his safety and well-being."

As we continued to eat, I pulled out the pamphlet for the cruise, looking over what it had to offer once more. I smiled happily, flipping the brochure over and letting Max have a look. "_See, _they have a pool, an delightful dining hall, a ballroom, a sunbathing and spa area, and much, much more. It has everything I need, and since I'm bringing _you _along, I'm definitely complete onboard the _W.T._ _East._"

"Does it have a battling area?" he questioned. "It could be fun battling onboard a ship like that."

I pulled the pamphlet away. "Why would you want to battle when you have all those other things to enjoy? _Including _their grand and fabulous rooms with king-sized beds, which I _intend _to enjoy fully." I winked at the boy knowingly, finishing the last of my toast and then sipping some coffee.

Seeing I was done with my meal, Max finished up his pancakes and set down his fork with a weird sort of excitement. "Let's battle now!" he exclaimed, leaning forward and everything like a nerd.

"Max, I just ate. Do you want me to have a cramp?" I wondered, raising an eyebrow.

"Please, it's your Pokémon that do the real work," he argued.

I was amazed by this boy's level of enthusiasm for battling; it was almost equal to my eagerness to shag him, and what did that say about the _both of us_, really? I couldn't imagine the boy ever suggesting the two of us should fuck the way he hyped up for a simple battle. I did, however, look forward to the day when he took it upon himself to fully make the first move in a shag, and continuing to be very persistent the whole time. He'd come close, true, but it was always _I _who had to push for it and had to make all the first moves. Oh, what a delightful day that was going to be when he finally advanced!

"Now, come on," he urged, getting up from his seat and grabbing his bag. He began rushing over to the middle of the wide dock, making a fair amount of room between all the businesses and where he stood.

I gave a light sigh, placing down an estimated amount of money for the meal and getting up as well. I dusted off any possible crumbs on my lap and then headed over to the where the boy was, distancing myself several feet away. He was already holding a Pokéball, clutching it tightly.

"Darling, why is it when you and I have a battle, I cannot help but notice how ridiculously adorable and ravishing you are, hmm?" I acknowledged, giving him a smile.

Max ignored me, making the decision to be the first one to reveal his Pokémon. He threw the Pokéball, and I realized he had chosen one of the Pokémon I had yet to battle: Murkrow. Well, in that case, I thought it best to follow suit, so I chose Sneasel's ball from my bag, throwing it out to the dock in front of the black bird. Sneasel presented itself in an excellent way, showing off its sharp and dangerous claws and glaring deeply at its opponent.

"I suppose this is a one-on-one match, Maximus?" I wondered, putting a hand on my hip.

"Yep!" he answered. "Now, Murkrow, Faint Attack!"

Taken back by how Max used such a strong attack as a starter, I was momentarily stuck on what to have Sneasel do. Murkrow and Sneasel were both Dark-types, making for an interesting battle, but most likely quick, as Dark-types were very strong against each other.

Quickly, I composed myself and ordered, "Sneasel, use your Agility!"

Sneasel dashed about, making it difficult for Murkrow to keep a close eye on where its opponent was looming. Flapping its wings and creating a vast amount of height between itself and the ground, Murkrow flew high, bursting down the Faint Attack with a beam of its haunting eyes. Sneasel moved out of the way quick enough, then jumped high, knocking Murkrow down on the ground and flowing up with a couple of strikes of Fury Swipes, which I had ordered only a moment earlier.

"Haze!" Max ordered.

Murkrow flapped its wings even more violently, regaining its position in the sky and meanwhile creating a messy fog around the docks. I squinted, searching for both Sneasel and the stupid little bird. Murkrow had made it difficult to see for itself, so I figured it was both a disadvantage and an advantage at the same time.

"Fury Attack, right into the air!" I shouted.

Sneasel looked up, shooting out the spiky blasts and managing to hit Murkrow several times before the bird moved out of the way, listening to Max's next command—a Night Shade, it seemed—and paralyzed Sneasel with a flash of light. Murkrow then swooped down, lingering around the concrete dock back and forth, trying hard to confuse Sneasel even more.

"Astonish!" Max yelled.

"Try to snap out of it and use Icy Wind!"

But Sneasel still couldn't move. Murkrow's attack was a direct hit, sending Sneasel sliding back and in a groggy state of puzzlement. Unable to get up, Murkrow sent another Astonish attack down, causing any efforts of Sneasel's to just prove useless.

"Keep trying!" I urged, clutching my fist.

"Murkrow, Pursuit! Then Faint Attack again!" Even from where I was at, I could _hear_ the smile on Max's face, the little fuck.

Murkrow's combination of attacks was admirable: a gusty stroke of Pursuit slamming against Sneasel, and then a moment later, a blast of dark-colored spark of Faint Attack. The smoke of whisking movement cleared, and I had to admit, I wasn't surprised to see Sneasel completely knocked out. Regardless, I rolled my eyes, instantly returning the creature and rolling my eyes.

"La-di-da!" I grunted towards Max, crossing my arms like a bratty kid. "I guess I deserve that for not _caring _to battle anyway."

Max was too busy congratulating Murkrow for the lickity-split win to care about responding to my statement. I walked over to him after a moment of fuming, managing to settle my emotions rather quickly. Instead of patting Murkrow on the head, I patted Max, running my hands through his hair and lifting his chin so he would look at me. The boy was confused by my desire to have him look at me, but relaxed when he noticed I had a rather calm and adoring expression on my face.

"I'm going to have to admit, Max," I told him in a flip tone, "if you want to really train, I'll suggest finding opponents other than me. My tendency to slack-off may hinder your work."

Max batted my hand away. "Don't be silly," he said. "I'm just _better _than you, that's all."

I glared at Max, but did my best to keep the anger inside me flattened. The boy returned his Pokémon and swung his backpack over his shoulder, ready to move onto something else. Of course, there wasn't anything to move onto, so I just walked idly by him, sitting on the edge of the dock like we had done the first night we got into town. Max eventually sat, too, laughing foolishly as he did so.

"I think the two of us need to have a rematch between Kirlia and Cacturne," he stated. "It was the first battle we had together." He smiled whimsically.

This made me smile, too. "Indeed it was. Oh, and this time, Cacturne's ego would not allow him to be beat again." I pulled Max close to me with a sweep of my arm, forcing him to lean against my side.

"Or _your_ ego?" the boy quipped, looking up at me with a raised eyebrow. He then squinted as he turned his head, spotting something to the far left of us, which appeared to be a ship. "Hey, do you think that's the one we're taking?"

"It looks like it," I replied, holding a flat hand over my eyes so I could get a closer look. "Boarding starts soon, so let's get a head start, darling," I then said, standing up and offering my hand to Max.

The boy took it, and I lifted him onto his feet quickly. We began walking towards where we saw the ship, which was relatively close to Jasmine's Gym. Max took out his PokéNav thing as we trotted along, but I wasn't quite sure what he was checking for, although from my angle I could see he was looking at a map of Slateport City.

"From the looks of it," Max examined, "we'll probably be making quite a few stops. There are a lot of tourist hot-stops between here and Slateport."

"Well," I said, "the tickets say something about four stops. Slateport is the last, so I'm sure that's going to get fucking annoying."

Max didn't seem to bothered by the issue and kept walking, staring down at the device with intent. Several minutes later, right when we reached the boarding harbor, he put away the PokéNav and let his eyes linger over the massively large white and gold-rimmed ship that seemed to block a jillion and one feet of the sky. There was a very huge crowd of people around the docks now, either just hanging around to see what the hoopla was about or because they, too, were passengers on the boat.

The line to board was rather short, as there was still quite some time left before the ship was set to leave at ten o'clock. I presented the tickets to the attendant, who took a few notes and then handed me paper, which he scribbled the assigned room number and a few other notes. Afterwards, Max and I walked along the tall and narrow metal ramp that led onto the ship.

"I think I'm getting sea legs," Max noted, clutching onto the rail as we got higher and higher.

"_Pssh, _we're not even on the boat yet, kiddo," I noted, grabbing his hand and guiding him quicker up to the top. "Don't tell me you get sea sick or else I'm going to have to boot your adorable ass off, my love."

"I don't," he assured, "but I've just never been on a ship this big." Instead of shaking my grip off, the boy seemed to be grateful for the contact and even pushed himself forward, making sure he was right beside me so he could half-lean against me as we walked up the ramp.

"Not feeling well _does _give us an excuse to stay lock up in the room all day," I told him. "Oh, speaking of which, we appear to be on lodging level six, room J. Looks like it's first class for us."

"J?" the boy echoed. He then shrugged. "Well, I guess it figures you'd buy tickets that'd allow us into first class. Would you settle for anything else?"

"Absolutely not," I told him, rubbing his upper-arm. When we finally finished the ramp and were just about on the deck, I scooted the boy forward, exclaiming, "Now, stop dawdling, and get onboard!"

Max stepped foot on the ship, making a funny face at the change of flooring and then moved more, trying to stand in the center of the deck. As I settled on the ship, I, too, had to admit it was a very queasy and uncomfortable feeling being this high on floating fucking object in the water. Especially when you could feel the constant rocking back and forth and the gust of wind that seemed to only increase.

"Oh, my," I noted, blinking several times as I attempted to get used to the feeling. I distracted myself by taking a good old look at the incredibly decorative deck, choke-full of potted plants (on a fucking ship!) and lawn chairs and those weird binocular devices.

Max let out an uneasy sigh, walking all the way to the other side of the ship and leaning over the railing to get a look at the view. From this side of the ship, it was easy to spot some of the islands and cities further out at sea. I leaned my back against the railing, crossing my arms and grunting.

"So far, I'm unimpressed," I commented dully.

"Then let's have a further look around," the boy suggested. "This ship is _huge—_there's got to be something worthwhile on it."

"All right," I agreed, beginning to walk with the boy towards the large two-door entryway.

This led to the inside of the actual ship, which had much more pleasant décor than the outside. As we walked by another large door, I stopped, going back and peeking inside. Inside was apparently the ballroom, though it looked pretty dumb and bland. Continuing on, we saw stairways going up and down, signs describing where they led to, neither of which brought us to where our room was located. At the very end of the hall was a short corridor heading towards the dining hall and closed-off kitchen. Now, the dining hall—which was completely blank and very tidy thanks to no meals taking place—was very beautiful, a nice Victorian-like design showing through the furniture, coloring and even drapes and carpet. I approved greatly.

Even though there was no activity, Max and I walked down to the dining hall, passing between the empty tables, all of which had white cloth napkins, ruffled and scrunched up in tight rolls. The silverware, apparently properly arranged, was sparkling, and I considered—just for a moment—snatching a few, as they looked like they were worth some money. But, Max was around, and I wasn't in the mood for his bitching.

"I don't think I'm going to fit in here," Max stated. "I bet this ship is full of old people."

"Then we'll represent the beauty of youth, darling," I chirped as we approached the north end of the dining room. We walked through the other exit, ending up in another hallway, which contained only rooms.

We walked through and ended up outside again, this time on the very far end of the ship, quite a distance from where we first got on the ship. On this side of the deck, however, was the large and oddly zigzag-shaped pool. In both corners of the deck were hot tubs, and course, everywhere else, there were the weird binocular things and lawn chairs galore. To the left of us, there was a stairway leading to the upper-deck, and from the look of it, there appeared to be three battlefields, which caused a smile to grace Max's face. He quickly ran up the steps, instantly focusing on the three battles that were taking place: one between an Eevee and Muk, another between a Teddiursa and a Doduo, and the last between a Torkoal and Hypno. Each trainer battling was rather young.

"Ah, so I guess this cruise won't contain only old bastards," I happily stated. "And thank goodness, because you remember what I said about old men, right?"

Max rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I do." He then shook my statement away and said, "I want to battle later, Harley."

"Fine with me," I shrugged. "It gives me time to bath out in the sun, after all."

I took out the pamphlet again, reading over some of the other entertainment provided on the ship. "There's a casino for lousy fucks," I said aloud. "Ooh, and also a bar. _That _might be fun."

"For _you,_" Max spewed. He then stood on his tip-toes, trying to get a look at the brochure. "Anything else?" he wondered.

"Hmm, nothing I didn't already mention before," I voiced. "Want to go find our room now?" I then asked.

The boy shrugged. We began walking again, heading towards the direction where a sign read _Lodging Level 5& 6 _and pointed left. We walked by several big rooms, most of which looked like they were for private parties and the such. We eventually reached where our room was at, and I used the ancient old metal key the attendant gave me to unlock the room.

The room opened up to a small enclosure, complimented with the entrance to the bathroom, which shone of pearly tiles and the reflections of various mirrors. To the left was the hamper/closet, which had several locked hangers, as if someone was going to take the time to steal hangers in the first place. The actual room, further down the small hall, was finitely decorated with tan and light yellow furniture, topped off with light pink drapes and bed sheets. The dark birch wood of the desk and dresser were a nice touch amongst everything else occupying the small space we were given. There was no television, and I was very glad for that, because it meant Max had absolutely no distractions when we were in here, meaning he'd _have to _give into something.

I smiled, letting my mind travel off to some deliciously naughty thoughts involving the boy. Just as my envisions were getting good though, Max pushed me to the side so he could walk to the end of the room and pull the curtains back to get some sun into the space. I grinned, watching him having to stand on his tip-toes to do so. I threw my bag down on the dresser, yawning and stretching my muscles tiredly. As I ran my hand through my hair, I readjusted my hat, making sure it was finely centered and not crooked.

"Look!" Max said, urging me to come over to the window. When I did, he pointed towards an island far out to the west. "That's Cianwood Island. I'm glad I already earned my badge there or else we wouldn't be able to go to Slateport."

"Oh, yes, we would. I'd just kidnap you and not allow you to earn it." I dropped to my knees, pulling Max towards me and embracing him close to my chest. "Maybe I should just do that anyway, and not let you come back to Johto to get your last badge."

"You wouldn't do that," Max replied, not threatened by my statement. "You're not _that _mean."

"Oh, really? Do I need to remind you of all the 'awful' things I did to your sister, huh?" I wondered, kissing the side of his face afterward.

"Yeah, but you hate her," he stated. "You like _me, _as far as I know."

"Isn't funny how I can completely detest one sibling and just adore the other?" I rubbed one hand over the boy's collarbone and then used the other to pat his hip gently.

"I think it's a little weird, to be honest," Max admitted. "Maybe you're just being sexist. You like my dad, after all, but I bet you hate my mother."

"I don't know her," I told Max, "but then again, she did marry my Norman, so I do have some sort of justification to hate her."

"_Your _Norman?" Max repeated, whirling around and glaring at me. "Aren't you over that by now?"

"Well, he's still one handsome man, I must admit. But, you're much more my type, Max." I laughed sincerely, giving Max a frank look. "You know how much I adore you, so don't get all jealous like that. I mean, goodness, jealous of your own father? I think that's a bit silly."

"You're the one jealous of my sister, Harley," the boy pointed out.

I really couldn't deny this, since it was the bloody truth. Regardless of whether Max sincerely had a _thing _for his sister or not, she was still a trollop, and I hated her passionately. After all, she still had a hold on Max, which I disliked immensely. Max had moved on, was _mine _now, and was definitely not in need of revisiting the past when he was doing fine without his fucking sister anyway.

Desperate to reaffirm the fact Max was indeed mine, I pressed my mouth against his, titling my head to increase the pressure and closeness. When I was done, I leaned my forehead against Max's, and smirked at him knowingly. Max didn't smile, but he didn't frown either, and sooner or later, the boy reconnected our mouths again, adding more fervor than I had. I grabbed the boy's hips, steadying the uneasy shake I felt. The boy, feeling more comfortable now, linked his arms around my shoulders, opening his mouth to allow my slick, warm tongue entry.

After a while, out of breath, we broke apart, and a blush developed in the middle of Max's cheeks. Arms still around me, Max pursed his lips, narrowed his eyes and pulled me a bit closer. I sensed he was about to tell or ask me something.

"What is it?" I wondered, urging him to say it.

"Harley… I, um…" He kept his eyes narrowed, not even trying to look at me. "I… um, it's…"

I rose an eyebrow, lifting his chin so he'd be forced to look at me. "What?" I asked again, giving him a puzzled look.

"Never mind." He tried to pull away from me, completely red in the cheeks, but I pulled him back, very curious. Whatever he had to say was pretty big, I guessed, or else he wouldn't seem so hesitant to say it.

"Don't do that," I chided. "You can tell me, darling."

"It's nothing. I forgot, actually." The boy pulled away again, much more forceful this time.

I stood up, putting a hand on my hip and frowning. I had absolutely no idea what he wanted to tell me, but I certainly didn't believe his "I forgot" nonsense. Whatever the case, it must not have been _that _important, I concluded. Lazily, I shrugged off my jacket and placed it on the chair belonging to the desk. Max was now over at the large bed, reading something from the nightstand.

Both of looked up the ceiling when we heard the loud, overly obnoxious foghorn-like sound from the ship, a clear sign the ship was about to set sail. The horn went off several more times before finally shutting up. I kicked off my boots and fell backwards on the bed, relaxing on top of the cushion-y, smooth mattress and sheets. Even though Max was busy reading whatever, I reached over, pulling the back of his shirt and causing him to stumble back onto the mattress as well.

"Feels nice, huh?" I said, crawling over to his side and snaking my arm around his stomach. "I think we're going to have fun on this here bed."

"I was reading!" Max exclaimed, but it was so weak and pathetic that I could sense even _he _knew it.

"Shh, stay still," I soothed, placing a hand on his chest. "I can feel the ship moving now."

Max listened to me, concentrating on the feeling of the swaying ship, not just moving back and forth against the waves, but moving through them very slowly. I was still focused on the movement of the ship when I felt Max's hand on the back of my neck, the boy looking at me seriously as I laid next to him. I grinned, my attention no longer on the ship, but on Max's neck, strikingly obvious as the collar of his shirt was a bit frazzled. I leaned in, pressing my lips against the skin there, sucking on it hard as if I were some retarded teenage boy, desperate to give his slutty girlfriend a hickey.

The boy was obviously a bit uncomfortable with the feeling, as he pulled away, allowing my lips to move to his chin. I slid my lips around there for a while, but eventually moved away, concentrating on his wonderful little arms. Max still had one hand on the back of my neck, pulling me down as he breathed in and out at an unsteady pace. It hadn't quite been like what I one day hoped for, but Max had definitely insinuated something this time around, and I was happy to fulfill everything he wanted at this movement.

I moved my head back to his face, flicking my tongue around his ear, and whispering softly, "Want to be that rambunctious little scamp _I know _you are and be on top again, darling?"

Max became a bit stiff. "I, um," he stuttered, pursing his lips, "I… uh… I don't know." He blushed deeply.

I stifled my laughter, encircling my arms around the boy and turning him over onto my stomach. Beneath him, I began pulling off his shirt, making sure to take his glasses in the removal, too. When I began messing with his shorts, I felt a slow, mild twitch of his cock, a quick arousal developing at the feeling of my hands so near his thighs and between his legs. I grinned maniacally at him, urging him to lift his hips so I could slide off the pair of shorts. He allowed me, and then reached down to my chest, making his own attempt to remove my tank-top, which I helped him out in doing, as he still seemed a bit flustered from my question. However, now on top of me and certainly not protesting about anything, I had a feeling he was most definitely going to be the one on top again, which made me spiral into a wacky haze of lust.

I pushed my hips up, grinding them against the boy's and then unbuckling my belt myself, carefully sliding off my pants and very cleverly doing so without having to ask Maximus to get off. Now, Max, still in his little undies—which were not the ones I gave him, sadly, and I really had to wonder why the fuck he wasn't wearing them when they looked so _good _on him—was very hesitant to reach down and touch my already hard and aching erection, so I reached out, guiding his hand to help him. A shiver flew up the boy's body at instant contact, so I jerked my hips up again, trying to get him used to the feeling. I laughed through this, watching him uneasily begin to touch me.

Wanting to calm the boy, or at least distract him, I began rubbing my hand against his undies, specifically in the area where his hard cock was pressing through the plain white material. I sat up, fusing our chests and pulling the boy up so I could remove his adorable undies. After I successfully slid them off, I began pumping the boy's cock more enthusiastically in my hand, meanwhile waving my hips about to earn more movement in Max's tight grip. His thrusts became more confident, and soon, his breathing is hitched and his skin is sticky from a damp sweat. I stop our movements, not wanting either of us to come before I even have a chance to fuck the boy.

Still for a moment, I felt the sway of the ship, moving against the waves and the wind hitting the window outside. I put my hand over the boy's mouth, grinning as I command him, "Spit in it."

Puzzled at first, the boy understood a moment later, but still was hesitant. I continued to smile, and I watched as his cheeks gather some saliva in preparation to spit. Eventually spitting, I felt how warm and hot his saliva was, and I just lolled my head back in amazement. After coating my cock with his spit, I then, very carefully, urged the boy to rise up, hovering over my length. Max kept his eye on what I was doing, soon biting his bottom lip as I began to guide him down onto my cock. He inhaled, shutting his eyes tightly.

"Harley…" he gasped, his fists clutching around the sheets at his sides.

I kept pushing him down, feeling the boy's muscles clench and tighten as I lowered him completely. I closed my eyes momentarily to get used to the amazing pressure of his tight ass around my cock, settling eventually and then rising my hips to urge him to start moving.

"Come on, darling," I coaxed, enveloping his cock in my hand and beginning to pump.

Max let out a rather stifled moan, moving his hips and almost pulling my entire length out of his body before lowering himself back down. We both inhaled in surprise at the feeling, and Max repeated it instantly, but with more speed. I smirked in approval, making sure to respond with him, thrusting up my hips and driving into his fucking adorable ass.

Steady, calm, but soon fervent and fast, Max leaned forward as he slammed down onto my hardness, pulling me into his arms and giving himself a needed leverage so he wouldn't fall over in exhaustion. _Ahh, _and oh, glory day, it was perfect! I wanted Max like this forever, impaled on my cock and slamming down on me in a needy boyish lust!

I pushed the boy's chest away just a bit, enough space so I could fuse our mouths together. It became an open and wanton kiss, one that Max moaned into, and one that I couldn't help make more passionate by twisting my hips, forcing the boy to straddle my cock even harder.

"Mm, _Maximus,_" I breathed, feeling his thrusts become harder and _faster._

Max's arm tightened around my neck, and I wanted so badly to just clamp my teeth around the supple and pale upper-arm that was looming in front of me. Instead, I leaned forward, biting his neck again and causing him to call out in half-pain, half-pleasure as I simultaneously encircled my hand around his hard length. Max's body shuddered, and I felt his warm climax release onto my hand and stomach. I allowed myself to savor the tight pressure of his ass as he shuddered in aftershocks before coming, too, calling out his name and throwing my head back in completion.

Drained, I fell backwards, sighing heavily. Max breathed hard above me, eyes shut and hovering over me diagonally. He whispered my name, very affectionately, and I realized it was definitely in a way I had not heard before. He opened his eyes, looking down at me, almost looking sad. I sat up, kissing him on the mouth and rubbing where I had bitten him, hoping he wasn't despondent about that.

"Harley…" he said again, keeping me close in an embrace.

I kissed his cheek now, wondering what was up with his whimsical-like attitude. I began to rub his arm, patting him gently and giving him a curious look. Max's eyes narrowed familiarly, and whatever it was that was bothering him, I had an odd feeling it had to do with what he was trying to tell me before. A quick thought occurred to me, but I shook it off _instantly, _not ready to arrive at that possibility.

So, instead, I pushed the boy up, releasing my cock from being buried in his delightful ass and helped him lie down. I then moved the sheets on the bed, pulling the covers over us both and pressing my chest against the boy's back. I stroked his hair, kissing his shoulder and trying my best to soothe whatever it was that had him so blue.

"Don't be so glum," I urged the boy. "You're not nearly as charming this way."

Max turned his body but remained in my embrace. He looked at me seriously, but still appeared so down in the dumps. "I'm not going to do what Drew told me to, Harley," he stated softly. "I'm not going to leave you, because, um, I think it's just… _dumb_ to just stop hanging around someone I care about."

"Well, that's good to know," I told him, pushing back some of my own hair. "If you left me now I think I'd go mad!"

"Really?" he wondered.

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "You know that already. Stop getting a complex."

Max now laughed, brightening up _finally. _He smiled and pushed his face into my shoulder. "I guess I just really, really realized that I liked being with you, Harley. You know, I've become so used to it. And I don't want us to stop traveling together." He blushed lightly, but kept his eyes on me. "Thank you."

"For what?" I wondered, amusement in my voice.

"I don't know. Just for being fun."

"Oh_hhh,_" I said proudly. "Well, then, thank you for being so fucking faunlet-y and adorable, Max."

"Uh… you're welcome," the boy replied, furrowing his brow a bit. "Anyway, do you want to get out of the room and see if anything is worth checking out again?"

I sat up, stretching in a lazy way. "Fine, why not!" I agreed, searching for my pants in the messy sheets. When I found them and my tank-top, too, I began getting dressed.

I noticed Max was watching me, but his somewhat mawkish expression didn't make me want to tease him and give him a knowing grin. It worried me_ again. _The boy was becoming very quiet and his statements of enjoying my company and not going anywhere only heightened some of my previous thoughts. I may have been wrong, but I had a distinct feeling the boy was beginning to re_eeee_ally like me, and he might have been falling a bit deeper into his emotions than expected. And, that revelation was forcing _me_ to consider something, too.

**End of Part Nine**


	10. Part Ten

**Part Ten**

_-Max-_

Yesterday, I had beaten _four _trainers in a row on the ship's battlefields. Having earned seven badges, it shouldn't have been that big of a deal, but I was insanely proud of my accomplishment, even more so since all my opponents had been older. The only aspect of the battles that sort disappointed me was that Harley hadn't been watching. He had decided to go through with his statement of sunbathing, which I still thought was girlie and weird. Regardless, I was happy to have beaten all those trainers and their Pokémon. I was definitely going to battle more—and actually couldn't _wait—_but first, I had to finish my lunch, which I was currently eating in the dining hall.

Next to me, picking at his side of potatoes, Harley looked very tired, but I had a feeling he was more bored than anything else. He had wanted to stay in bed all day, but I insisted the two of us go out and do something on the ship. In the middle of the night, there had been a stop at an island called Sanguine Port, which I had never of, but Harley and I had been asleep during the stop, so it sort of felt like it didn't even happen.

After I took a sip of my drink, I turned to Harley, asking, "If I battle some more, do you want to watch?"

Harley made a raspberry sound. "Didn't you get your kicks yesterday?" he wondered. He then went on to answer my question, saying, "I might, darling. Watching you battle does amuse me, I must admit." The man brightened up a bit, crossing his legs and leaning over to my side of the table a bit to press his lips on top of my head.

Even though I wanted to scan the room to see if anyone had seen the kiss, I actually didn't, and instead just allowed his chin to lean against my head for a moment. Just as I had admitted to Harley yesterday, his presence was something I had gotten _so used _to, and it was very hard to imagine what it would be like without him. Ever since he had given me my birthday present, Harley had a way of making me feel a lot calmer as opposed to the way he used to make me feel: jittery and alert for some seemingly predatory movement. There was still that twist of a flutter, too, sometimes, which I tried my best to ignore, but was always really obvious when it happened, mostly when he said something nice to me.

"You know, you and I still have to find your kink," Harley noted, setting down his fork and wiping his mouth with the cloth napkin. "Don't think for a second that I forgot about that plan."

"I didn't agree to anything," I argue, frowning. "I can't picture myself having one anyway."

"You have one," he assured me, nodding in his own belief. "And, since Norman never spanked you, I have a strong feeling that depravity made you develop a liking for it now."

"I think you have that mixed up, to be honest," I told him. "Most kids that were spanked end up liking it later on in life."

Harley scoffed at this, either amused or blowing it off. "Now how would a boy like you know something like that, huh?" he wondered, raising an eyebrow and giving me a lechery look.

I rolled my eyes at his statement. Despite a small, bland mirth, I turned to face him completely, showing him I was mostly unaffected by his words. Harley smirked back at me and very slowly inched his face toward mine, and I sensed he was about to kiss me fully on the lips, right here in the dining hall, in front of countless people. I turned away a bit, but felt the man's breath on my neck. He was close enough so that I sense he was trying to do something playful, but distant enough so that the scene would perplex no one around us.

I felt his hand rest on my thigh, and he gave a soft and slightly insane chuckle. He glided his hand up and down, causing me to purse my lips and freeze.

"Max, is that _you_?"

I jumped at the sound of my name. The voice took a moment to registry with me, but it was familiar in its both girlish and calm way. When I looked up and snapped away from concentrating on Harley's lusty movement, I spotted a redheaded girl, dressed down in a pair of shorts and a plain red top. Her name—just like her voice— took a second to come to me, but I remembered it soon enough.

"Misty!" I exclaimed in shock. I blinked several times, pushing Harley's hand off my thigh, even though I knew from where Misty was at, it was impossible for her to see it. "Uh… _hi,_" I then continued, not sure what to say, really.

Beside me, Harley seemed very irritated by her presence. And, he didn't even know her. Even though he wasn't touching me anymore, I felt his body stiffen with discomfort, and it was almost like he was hovering over me in a possessive sort of way.

"It is you," she said, smiling widely and putting her hands on her hips. "Wow, I haven't seen you in about four years. It's amazing that I even recognized you!"

Misty looked pretty much the same, albeit she had definitely become more grown-up and, uh, womanly. She seemed much taller, and her figure seemed to have developed to a more athletic, swimmer-type of build. Her hair was still up in her trademark way, and her pleasant, sweet smile was still there, too.

As she sat down across the table from Harley and me, I nodded and said, "Uh, yeah, I am a trainer now."

"I guessed," she replied. "You look so grown-up! It's so good to see you again though!"

Harley cleared his throat, looking at me in a half-angry, half-in-need-of-attention way. I realized that I had ignored him all this time and quickly fixed the problem by gesturing towards him and telling Misty, "Oh, um, this is, uh, my friend, Harley."

Harley extended an arm over the table, offering to shake Misty's hand. Misty took it, introducing herself by saying, "Hello, I'm Misty. I'm an old acquaintance of Max's."

Misty would've never noticed it, but there was a dull glare in Harley's eyes, one that was there because he simply did not like her already. I couldn't help become slightly irritated over that, but decided to ignore it for now.

"Acquaintance, eh?" the man said. "From where? And, _when_?"

Again, there was possession and negativity in Harley's words.

I sighed, but answered, "Misty used to travel with Ash, too. I never traveled with her, but there was a small occasion for a couple of days." I then smiled, revealing, "Misty's a Gym Leader, you know. She runs the Cerulean City Gym!"

"Oh, a Gym Leader," Harley repeated, making a mock-impressed face. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Misty."

Misty now seemed to catch onto the irregularity in Harley's words, and much to my despair, she asked, "Who did you say Harley was? Your friend?"

Harley began laughing and said, "_Actually, _I'm Max's uncle." He then added a second later, "But, we're more like friends."

I narrowed my eyes and blushed, but did my best to cover this up by pretending to readjust my glasses. _Christ, _I had no idea whether or not Misty was going to believe that, but it sounded convincing enough.

"Oh," she said, nodding. "So, are you Norman's brother?"

Harley waved a hand in dismissal. "No, I'm Caroline's," he explained.

I felt like I was sinking further and further into my seat, completely humiliated by this conversation even though there was nothing _to be _humiliated about! It just seemed like double-meanings were dripping from each and every one of Harley's words, and I didn't know how to handle it. Why the heck was Misty here anyway? Well, I supposed it was best to ask that.

"So, um," I interrupted, "I didn't even know you were on this cruise, Misty."

"Yeah, I got on last night, from Sanguine Port," she said. "There was a competition for Water-type Pokémon, and I was asked to attend." She smiled happily.

"Really?" I said. "How did that go?"

"Very well. I sort of wish I could've participate, but they wouldn't have allowed a Gym Leader to do that." She laughed, and then looked at Harley for a moment. "So, why are you guys here?"

Harley decided to answer this, grinning like a madman in his faux way, and explaining, "We were in Olivine City. Maximus here earned his seventh badge!" For the sake of himself, he then said, "And, _I _earned a ribbon in the Contest there. I'm a coordinator."

"Congratulations to you both," she applauded. "So, why aren't you going to Blackthorn City then, Max?"

"Clair's not at the Gym right now," I told her. "Someone else is there, but I'm going to wait to challenge Clair."

"Then you can enter the Johto League," she stated. "I remember when Ash entered it."

"Me, too," I admitted. "I watched it, and saw him lose and everything."

"Yeah…" Misty gave an uneasy smile. "Anyway, how is May doing?"

"Good, good," I answered, trying to sound as if absolutely nothing was wrong between my sister and I. "She's in the Orange Islands now."

Beside me, I felt Harley move in a spark of interest. I realized suddenly that I had never told the man where May was, and that I sort of swore I never would because I thought he would go track her down or something. Of course, I knew _now _he wouldn't do that, but it was still a bit of a revelation for the man, I supposed.

"You're—what? twelve now?—aren't you?" Misty then inquired.

"No, I'm thirteen," I corrected. "I turned thirteen just two days ago."

"Happy belated birthday then," she said. "So, have you two been traveling together all this time?" I wasn't sure, but I felt like there was indeed something unsteady in Misty's tone, as if she was catching onto something.

"No," I quickly answered before Harley had a chance to say anything. But, that was all I said, and I suddenly wished I had let Harley answer, because I'm sure he would've been able to construct some sort of story out of it.

Harley propped his chin up with his elbow, tapping his fingers against the table in boredom. I was becoming more worried over the situation as I watched Harley sit there though. What else could Harley be to be besides the actual truth? My uncle seemed like a logical cover-up, but it just felt so dumb and even though I knew it was all fabricated, I just couldn't even stand the situation. Besides, I could tell Harley _really _wanted to touch me right now.

Suddenly, the man stood up, and announced, "Well, I think I am going to go check out that spa here onboard." He looked at Misty and said, "Pleasure to meet you."

Misty nodded while I just sort of looked up at him, startled by his statement. Was he really leaving me now? I knew it was because Misty was here, as he certainly would not just leave me all alone in the dining hall had it just been the two of us. I knew I looked pretty helpless as I stared up at him, and Harley eventually looked down at me.

"I'll see you later, Maximus," he said, rubbing the top of my head in a limited way of showing affection. If Misty wasn't here I knew he would've kissed me thoroughly on the mouth, and I actually _really _wanted him to, because I felt so on-edge, left wanting something the man simply was not willing to give.

I let my eyes narrow as the man walked away, saddened by his absence and unsure what to say to Misty now. I looked back up to her eventually, knowing that seeming so despondent over the man's leaving would be just a tad bit weird.

"Harley's a coordinator, huh?" Misty wondered. "Just like May?"

I gave a quick nod. "Yeah." And, just like before, it was all I could say. I felt so retarded now.

"I take it you already went through Hoenn, right? And, the League?"

"Of course!" I declared proudly. "Hey, do you want to have a battle, Misty?"

Misty cocked her head. "For a badge?" she wondered.

"No, no," I said. "Just for fun. Yesterday I beat _four _trainers in a row. I'd like a challenge now."

The girl smiled. "Sure, but I only have my Corsola with me, is that okay?"

"Yeah," I assured, and I rose from my seat, grabbing my bag and following Misty out of the dining hall. When we exited, I asked, "Have you talked to Ash lately?"

"No," she admitted. "But, he's in Sinnoh now, which I'm sure you already knew."

I nodded. "I'm thinking about going to Sinnoh next," I told her. "But, maybe Kanto, so then I could challenge you for a badge."

Misty laughed. "That could be fun," she said happily. "So, what Pokémon do you have?"

"I have a Stantler, Murkrow, Mareep, Skiploom and Kirlia," I revealed as we walked up the steps to the battlefields. Thankfully, there were two empty fields, so we could battle right away.

"I look forward to battling you, Max," she said. "But, don't expect me to go easy on you." She grinned at me confidently and then walked over to her side of the field.

I stood in my designated box and thought over who I should use. Mareep was an obvious choice, but I thought maybe I should try and use one of my Pokémon who needed to train a bit more. I decided on Murkrow, who was very strong, but who I thought would benefit most from the battle.

I took out his Pokéball from my bag, watching as Misty released Corsola from its ball and the pink coral creature landed on the field, ready for a battle. I threw Murkrow's ball soon after, and the black bird flapped its wing energetically, ready just as much as Misty's Corsola.

"And, here I thought you'd definitely choose Mareep," Misty noted form the other side. "I'm surprised."

I grinned, now very happy to have made the choice. I definitely wanted to prove to Misty this battle didn't just have to do with types, and more over, Murkrow was an excellent opponent for her Corsola. However, _I_ did have to remember Corsola was also a Rock-type, so using any of Murkrow's Flying attacks wasn't the best choice during the battle.

"All right," I said, hyped-up, "Murkrow, use Astonish!"

I could see Misty smiling from the other side of the arena. "Corsola, Bubblebeam!"

Although small, I soon discovered Corsola was speedy, much faster than I ever anticipated. It dodged Murkrow's purplish blast of Astonish, causing where the attack landed to fog the battlefield. It wasn't enough to distract either Pokémon, and Corsola opened its small mouth, releasing dozens upon dozens of shiny, clear bubbles, all of which were sent in Murkrow's direction. Murkrow tried his best to fly away, but was greeted in the back by the wet bubbles, slamming powerfully into his neck and causing the bird to lose the graceful glide in his flaps.

"Pursuit!" I ordered.

"Spike Canon!"

The needles from Corsola flew by Murkrow's body, and the bird used the opportunity of the miss to send the whirl of purple and black directly onto Corsola. Achieving a hit, Corsola was forced to slide backwards, trying its best to take the attack. Somehow unaffected for the most part, Corsola retried its Spike Canon, jutting out the crazy mix of needles and spikes, all of which ended up hitting Murkrow.

"Murkrow, fly up and use your Faint Attack!"

Murkrow listened, gaining a vast amount of height and then ascending to the ground to attack at great speed. Corsola, not knowing exactly where the attack would land, began fretting, and Misty called out for her Pokémon to use Bubble straight up into the sky. Corsola halted all movement, standing on its back legs and releasing the bubbles.

I was unable to see where Corsola's attacks were going at first, but I stared up into the sky, witnessing the bubbles blasting against Murkrow's feathery body. The bird swooped down, trying to regain its height, but was too tired to remain in the air. He landed on the battlefield, breathing heavily and unable to stand straight.

"Use Night Shade!" I decided, knowing it wouldn't overexert the Pokémon.

Murkrow let the attack out, but both Misty and Corsola's persistent in that awful Spike Canon attack caused Murkrow's attempt to once again fail, and now completely drained of energy, the bird simply stood there, continuing to breathe uncomfortably. I wondered if it was wise to recall my Pokémon, but I knew Murkrow wouldn't have liked that himself. I frowned, knowing in the back of my head that a Flying attack simply would do no good at all.

"Corsola, finish this off with Rock Blast!"

_Rock Blast_? I was stunned, both of her demand and the sight of Corsola actually following through. The pink coral of a Pokémon created several bursts of boulders, amazingly swishing them in the air and causing Murkrow to fall back, already knocked out even before the attack was finished. Corsola was quick to give a chirp of success, jumping high into the air before trotting back over to Misty and looking for even more praise.

Meanwhile I stood there, dumbfounded by how quickly the battle had ended and how tough it was for Murkrow to even successfully land an attack on his opponent. Before, part of me had wished Harley had stayed with me so he would've been able to watch this battle, but now, I was glad he didn't. I was completely humiliated. I was hardly even able to recall Murkrow, but as I did, I gave him a word of encouragement, then picked up my bag and walked over to Misty, a glum and disappointed expression staying on my face the entire time.

"Max, don't get that way. You were really good, honest."

I shrugged, unable to believe that. I had been able to beat three of the Johto Gym Leaders in the a row, but now—_now _after challenging a friend who I was forgetting was a Gym Leader, too—I had lost, and I felt so pathetic and inadequate.

"Max!" Misty repeated, this time with more concern. "I'm serious. I think Murkrow and you were fantastic."

Again, I shrugged. "I think I let my guard down," I admitted. "Or, maybe I should've chosen Mareep."

Misty smiled, bright and cheery. "The director of the competition I was at handed out gift bags to the special guests. I received one, and it included two stones, one of which was a Dusk Stone."

"A Dusk Stone?" I echoed. I blinked, but soon said, "Can't that be used on Murkrow?"

She nodded. "Yes, it evolves them into Honchkrow." She gestured around, continuing, "I'm not saying that Murkrow needs to evolve to be strong, but if you want, I'd be happy to give it to you. It's not like I have any Pokémon who evolve with it."

"_Really_?" I exclaimed, my mood shifting. "That would be fantastic! Really, it would! I can't believe it, Misty! Thank you!"

Misty put up a hand, trying to calm me. "I'll have to get it from my room, but it's definitely yours. You might want to consult Murkrow first though," she suggested.

I nodded. "I will," I assured. "Wow, I can't wait to tell Harley!" I instantly calmed down, hoping that comment wasn't too much. It was natural to be excited to tell your "uncle" something, wasn't it?

The redhead gave another smile, and I still felt very uncomfortable. She began walking, gesturing me to follow her. We walked back to her room, which was on the seventh lodging floor. The hall looked just the same as where Harley and I were staying, and I made an educated guess that it was in first class, too. Inside her room—which looked the same, too, but was the opposite side of the ship—she had the luggage aligned underneath the window.

"You know," I began, watching as Misty began digging through one of her suitcases, "now I'm sort of thinking about going to Kanto, just so I can have a rematch with you, which I'd most certainly win and earn a badge."

Misty chuckled. "You're quite confident," she noted, "even after losing a battle."

I considered whether or not this was really true. Harley was a lot more cocky when it came to his "greatness" and whatnot, and compared to him, I truly did not think I was anything more than just confident.

Examining the rest of the room, I spotted some of Misty's clothing lying on the bed, which apparently were her pajamas. This made me blush, but not because I was embarrassed by looking at them, but because once again I realized nightwear had become very foreign to me. The last time I even wore anything, Harley had insisted I take it off, and now I just didn't even attempt. It was true that Harley and I usually did something before bed, including last night where he had persuaded me into, well, using my mouth on him again, like I had done when we camped out that one night. It hadn't been nearly as awkward as the first time, but I still felt like I was really bad at it, especially when I thought back to how I couldn't even get that corn dog down my throat properly.

Even so, Harley had climaxed, and he had sang praises of my work, despite my demand he be quiet and stop making me feel mortified. I think he wanted to return the favor and do it to me, but I told him I was too sleepy, which was a lie, and I just didn't want him to do it because I knew I'd feel like what I had done had been completely terrible.

I shook away the thoughts, knowing they weren't very well appropriate to be thinking right in front of Misty. The redhead eventually found the stone, walking over me and handing it over. It was in a velvety bag, blue and finely stitched all around the edges. I took the stone out, examining it in the light. It was an ashy color, but very shiny and bright.

"Wow!" I admired, a wide smile on my lips. "This is just so pretty! Thank you again, Misty."

"No problem," she said.

"If you don't mind, I think I might wait to evolve Murkrow until he's a bit stronger," I revealed, putting the stone back in the bag.

Misty nodded, understanding. "That's fine." She then cocked her head, asking, "So, do you want to go look for Harley?"

I pursed my lips, trying my very best not to blush. "Uh, no, it's fine," I told her. "Besides, he's probably at the spa right now."

"He's not really your uncle, is he?"

My eyes shot up, and I gaped widely, before remembering myself, and quickly saying, "Who, Harley? Of course he is!"

"Really?" she wondered, raising an eyebrow in uncertainty.

"Y-yes!" I exclaimed, my eyes wide.

"You stuttered."

My eyes only became wider and the color drained in my face. There was no point in denying it now, as I knew I'd get very defensive in insisting he was indeed a family member, and that would only look suspicious. But, all I could do was look at Misty dumbly, so confused and oblivious in what I should say. After a long stretch of silence, Misty continuing to give me a curious look with her eyebrow raised, I finally just shouted:

"Fine! He's not! But, don't make this a bigger deal than it is."

Misty seemed impressed with herself and then crossed her arms, sitting on her bed and giving me an even _more curious _look. "Why?" she wondered "What's going on?"

And, what on earth was I supposed to say back to her? It wasn't like I was ever ready to explain this to anyone. Harley had made it quite clear to Drew, so it wasn't like I had to really come forward and _admit _the truth, although I had filled him in on several aspects of my relationship with Harley. But, this was Misty, a friend, but one I wasn't that acquainted with and one that I could never see myself talking to about _this. _I tried to think back to when Misty and I first met, and we had connected over being the youngest in the family, but it did not help me now.

"Max," she called out, putting a hand on my shoulder, "are you okay?"

"Harley's… a friend," I said. "He knew my sister, and I ran into him a while ago, so we decided to travel together."

"Okay," Misty voiced. "So, why'd you _lie _about it?"

"I don't know," I shrugged out. "Harley's the one who decided to make it up."

"So, why'd _he _lie about it then?" she asked.

I gave her helpless look, completely unintentional. I eventually just turned away, softly saying, "Because it's hard to understand."

"Apparently," she confirmed. "How old is he? In his twenties, I presume."

"Yeah," I responded, "he's twenty-four."

"Max," she started, very slowly and very carefully, "I hope I'm not out of line by asking, but is he _dating _anyone? Because I happen to find him quite attractive."

I whirled around at the finishing of Misty's statement. I gave her an absolutely horrified look, one that even revealed a bit of outrage and possessiveness. I immediately shouted, "Harley doesn't like women!"

Instead of looking shocked like I suspected, Misty gave a smug smile, one that caused me to fall deeper into a pit of humiliation, instantly realizing her question was a ploy. And, not only that, but she was definitely onto the truth about Harley and I, thus the reason she asked: to see if she could get a reaction out of me. Feeling stupid, I glared at Misty and then turned back around.

"You should've just 'fessed up about it," Misty chided, laughing through her words.

Her laughter surprised me, but also puzzled me. Was she not disgusted by the truth like Drew had been? I furrowed my brow, not ready to turn and face her, but not ready to say anything either. I just stared down at the floor, still and unmoving.

"I'm a romantic," Misty then stated, standing up and walking over to me. "I can't help but get a bit giddy when I realize two people are involved. It's always so sweet. But, you know Max, I am a bit surprised that you're dating a man."

I looked up at Misty finally. "Dating?" I echoed. It seemed like such a weird term to use for Harley and I, especially since it really didn't feel like _that _at all. I couldn't come up with any word that suited the two of us. "Misty, before you get the wrong idea, Harley's not forcing me—"

"Don't worry!" she interrupted and then gave me a considerate look. "But, I take it you're used to some of the more negative reactions."

"Uh, well, not really," I admitted. "Just this one guy…"

The redhead then gave a serious look. "I take it May doesn't know."

"No," I revealed. "And, I really don't want her to know right now. It's just… not really her business, and I don't think she'd take it very well, and it's sort of embarrassing."

Misty shrugged. "Well, Max, I've never really known any true May-December relationship, but I've read a lot about them."

"Really? Where?" I asked, hearing something idealistic and visionary in her tone.

"In books!" she exclaimed. "All those Victorian romance novels! The prince is always a lot older than the princess in the stories." She smiled wistfully.

I gave a deadpanned look. I really hoped she wasn't comparing me to a princess. Somehow though, I managed to smile. "I don't think Harley likes you," I admitted. "He's a little possessive of me sometimes."

"I think that's sweet," Misty noted, putting a hand on my shoulder. "He must really like you, Max."

I wasn't sure how to respond to any of this. How was it possible that someone actually accepted my relationship with Harley? It was unrealistic and plain unbelievable. But, there was something more fantastical about her words and smiles, as if she had no real grip on the reality of romance. Either that or she had very little experience. I wasn't one to be talking, but she seemed to have a very high expectation for romance, one that she never fulfilled herself, and so allowed her own imaginations to be played out in other people's lives. I thought that was strange.

"Hey, is it true that he knows May?" she then asked. "If so, how does she not know about you and him?"

I scoffed, rolling my eyes in amusement. "Well, Harley and May _used _to know each other. They were rivals in Contests, and they really did not get along."

"I know what that's like," Misty said. "I remember when Ash used to have a rivalry with this guy named Gary. It was insane."

"I'm sure Harley and May's was different," I assured. "_Way _different. Harley hated—and well, still hates—May, and he was pretty vicious to her in Contests. I mean, like, he sabotaged her on several occasions by cheating, by manipulating, by _everything_."

Misty seemed surprised. She blinked and then tilted her head, asking, "Then how is it you two are dating?"

I really wished she'd stopped calling it that. But, I didn't have the heart to tell her to stop. So, I simply explained, "May and him haven't seen each other in years, but like I said, he still hates her. But, um, I don't even know if I have forgiven him for all of that, but it's weird, really, because I sort of overlook it now. I just don't dwell in the past when it comes to Harley."

Misty gave a smirk. "He seems like the kind of guy who has a way of charming you." She laughed against the hand she put over her mouth. "If it's not too nosy of me, do you mind telling me when this all began?"

Misty's reasoning behind her inquiries were almost the exact opposite of Drew's. Drew had prodded because he was sickened and almost wanted to be malicious, but Misty, she was asking because she thought Harley and I had this fairy tale life, and I really doubted she realized the _extent _of our relationship. Again, I didn't feel right judging Misty when I myself was so inexperienced; however, I got a vibe that said she saw sex as only being romantic and intimate, and she simply did not have any grip on the possibility it could be the way Harley conveyed it: strictly pleasurable. Strangely, part of me conveyed it that way, too.

"I guess I don't mind," I finally responded, "but only if you tell me whether or not you were serious about thinking Harley is attractive."

Casually, Misty put her hands on her hips again, and she appeared very tomboyish in the way she slouched forward. "I guess Harley's not the only one possessive," she quipped. "I'll admit it though—yes, I do think he's quite handsome, which I'm sure you agree with, _but don't worry._"

"It's not like I have to," I said, "because I was telling you the truth when I told you Harley doesn't like women."

"And, you?"

"What about me?" I asked, puzzled.

"Do you like women? Or, girls, I guess?"

I blushed. "I-I don't know!" I clamored. "I did think you were pretty cool back then, but I don't know if I felt _that _way. I mean, I don't think I do now! Which doesn't mean I think you're ugly or anything! You're very pretty! But, I just… well, _you know…_"

Misty began laughing. "That's sweet of you to say, Max," she said, patting my shoulder. I was glad she didn't think I was a complete retard by my sloppy words.

"Anyway," I said, "I guess I should answer your original question. It's not that big of a story or anything, but we met in Goldenrod City, and you know, yadayada."

Misty nodded. "You know, I'm not even surprised by the fact he's older than you," she admitted to me. "I remember when we visited Prof. Oak's laboratory before Ash went to the Battle Frontier, and the way you were talking to Tracey made me think that maybe you had a bit of a hero worship crush on him."

"That's so far from the truth!" I shouted, looking up at Misty in shock. "Please tell me you didn't _say _anything to him!"

"I didn't, I didn't!" she assured, putting two hands up in innocence. "Okay, maybe I was wrong, but you did prove to like older guys, so I guess I wasn't completely wrong, was I?"

I frowned. "I really hate when people say that," I revealed. "It makes me feel weird."

"Sorry," she apologized, but a smile remained on her face. She suddenly looked at the clock on the nightstand and said, "You know, it's getting pretty late. Maybe you should go find Harley now. I didn't mean to steal you away from him this long."

I smiled back at Misty. "Don't worry, I'm sure he managed," I assured. "But, um, thanks, Misty. I really liked battling with you. And talking to you. And, uh, thanks for the stone again. That was nice of you."

"Of course, Max," Misty beamed. "I'm glad we ran into each other. I'm getting off tomorrow at Ochroid Cove, but I'm sure we'll see each other again before the stop."

"Okay," I brightly said. "Thanks again!" I smiled at her, then turned around and left the room, feeling much lighter. I was, admittedly, still a bit frazzled by the knowledge she was able to read through the cover-up, but I was sure it was something Harley and I could use for people who were less sharp in the field of being able to detect a relationship.

I made it back to the room Harley and I shared, but without a key, I couldn't get inside. I knocked, waiting for the man to come unlock it, but there was nothing. I pressed my ear against the door, trying to hear any sound, but I heard nothing. I guessed Harley wasn't in there, so I decided it would be best to check the spa, which was on the way other side of the ship.

Sighing, I started to walk towards there, eventually making it in what seemed like a lifetime. However, I instantly realized that the spa had just _closed _for the day only a couple of minutes ago. I peeked inside the glass doors, searching for the possibility of any lingering people, but saw absolutely nobody. I turned to scan the deck, and most of the people were just relaxing in the setting sun or checking out the view from the railing. I didn't have the courage to ask any of these people if they had seen Harley, and besides, I already predicted that my description of him would've made me seem like a wacko.

I wandered back into the corridor where I came from, trying to think where Harley could be at this hour. I couldn't see him just lying out in the sun that was barely there, and he certainly wasn't interested in going into the dining hall or ballroom or anything. But, then, suddenly it clicked in my head. Harley was undoubtedly at the bar. This instantly made my heart sink, and I felt myself get a bit queasy just at the thought of Harley sitting in some darkened lounge, drinking himself in a hazy cloud of drunkenness.

I tried to remember where Harley had said the bar was, and once I had a recollection, I started heading in that direction, going down a couple of halls and floors, and eventually finding my way. The lounge almost looked like a restaurant with all its tables and chairs, but I knew the menu only consisted of alcoholic drinks and the sort. The long bar that aligned the entire north wall had several folks sitting on the stools, and I spotted Harley at the very end seat, his legs crossed and resting his chin on his elbow.

I wasn't sure what his mood was going to be like, so I took a deep breath, entering the lounge/bar and approaching Harley. He didn't even sense my presence so I was forced to climb up the stool next to him, sitting down and giving him a rather frank look to get his attention. Even then, it took a moment for him to realize someone had sat next to him, and when he realized it was me, he tilted his head, and very, very slowly, began to smile.

"Darling," he greeted, and I smelt his breath instantly, very strong and reeking of some weird smelling alcohol.

"Hi," I said back, glaring at him.

"And here I thought you had run off with what's-her-face and had gotten married by now," he slurred out, rolling his eyes.

I spotted his small glass of golden-colored liquid, half-gone. I looked back up at him, retorting, "Well, not yet."

This caused Harley to grab my wrist, pulling me forward. "Don't even joke about that, Max," he barked. "At least, you _better _be joking." He tightened his grip, his nails digging into my skin.

"Of course I am," I replied, shaking his grip off me. "Jeesh, Harley."

The man managed to smile, although it was definitely messy and very drunk-like. Despite this—despite _everything _about how drunk he was and how badly he smelt—I couldn't stay that angry at him, because it felt like I hadn't seen him all day, and at the sight of his smile, my heart fluttered, and I really wanted his mouth on mine.

"Good," Harley breathed, leaning toward my side of the bar. "Good, good, good, because, Max, darling, I told you yesterday that I'd go mad without you! So bloody mad!" He tugged at me again, but this time, by my shoulder and he leaned closer, his lips inches from my face.

I let his mouth float around my skin, enjoying the warm feeling that seemed to simply steam off of him. I moved forward, and I forced his lips on mine, making the kiss fervent and open-mouthed. I didn't let his breath bother me, nor his almost _violent _way of keeping me pressed against him. In the darkness of the bar, I knew no one could see exactly what was going on between us, or even who we were, so I didn't let the public aspect of our kiss bother me.

When Harley broke the kiss, he grinned at me, staying close and declaring, "So, what did you and the redhead do all day?"

"We battled," I told him, "and then we went back to her room—"

"_What_?"

"Let me finish!" I shouted. "We went back to her room, and she gave me this." I reached into my backpack, pulling out the velvet bag. I slipped the stone out of the bag and showed it to Harley.

The man took it, looking at it skeptically before realizing what it was and asking, "What kind of stone is this?"

"A Dusk Stone," I revealed. "It can evolve Murkrow into a Honchkrow, but I'm not sure when I'm going to use it."

Harley gave it back to me and sighed in a drunkenly tired way. Still close to me, Harley planted a kiss on my forehead. "You're mine," he suddenly said, very randomly. "Don't forget it."

I cocked my head. "Um, Misty knows about us," I stated. "She found out on her own though. She said she was a romantic or something. I guess she just sort of figured it out."

Harley just looked at me, then a moment later, nodded. "Good for her," he grunted.

"Well, she's okay with it," I continued on, "so it doesn't bother me that she knows." I smiled.

Snaking an arm around me, and pulling me close so that my head was on his shoulder, Harley mumbled something I didn't understand and began stroking my hair affectionately. "Ah, my little faunlet," he murmured, "a few hours without you is agonizing. Don't do it to me again."

I frowned, uncomfortable with his possessiveness. I said nothing, allowing him to embrace me, and although I couldn't see his face, I had a feeling his eyes were closed, and it made the hug a lot more intimate, more idyllic.

"I want to fuck you, Max," he then told me, still keeping his voice low and hushed. "You're so unbelievably tight, you know that, don't you? I love how it feels when I'm inside you, and _goddamn, _I want to feel it right now."

I felt a reaction from his words, a distinct change in my body temperature and a passionate lust developing instantly. I tilted my head, pushing my lips up against the side of Harley's face. "Then can we please get out of here?" I asked, running my hands through his hair.

"Yes, oh, Lord, yes, my sweet," he muttered, scooting himself off the stool and dragging me off mine, too. He managed to stand on his own, but he leaned against my body, walking so weirdly, like he was a zombie or something. He stopped when we exited the bar, leaning down and whispering into my ear, "You want me, too, don't you?"

I stood still, allowing him to hold his weight down on me sloppily. "Yes," I answered. "Now, come on, you're heavy."

xxxxx

_-Harley-_

I wasn't sure how long it took to get to the room, but it sure felt like an eternity. As I somehow managed to unlock the door, Max continued to hold up my weight, and I felt his muscles growing tired as the strength he put into helping me decreased. When I swung the door open, Max left my side, walking right into the room and turning on the lights. My mind pretty blurred, I slunk against the wall, using it guide myself to the bed, which I collapsed upon and sighed tiredly into the sheets.

Max had left with that girl—Misty, I was pretty sure her name was—and hadn't returned for over three hours. It enraged me, knowing he was spending his time with some old friend and not spending his time with _me. _Of course, I had chosen to leave on my own freewill, but Christ, why hadn't he bothered looking for me sooner, the little brat? And then he went back to her room! Ugh!

Well, there wasn't really any point getting mad about it now. It was over, and Maximus was back with me again. And, apparently, little Misty had figured out the boy and I were shagging, which was a good thing, too. I almost wished I hadn't gone to drink my sorrows away, but it was sort of worth it to have Max come get me in the bar, forced to see the trauma he inflicted on _moi. _I knew he wasn't all that happy I was drunk, but, oh, the way he had kissed me, admitted to wanting me! What a delight!

I rose my chin off the mattress, looking at Max who was removing his shoes. I reached out, my arm extended just enough to touch Max's back. The boy shivered beneath my hand and turned around to look at me questionably. I grinned, trying to tug more on him and lead him down on the bed with me. He eventually sat, and I got on my knees, embracing his body and pulling me against my chest. My hands felt very confident and slick, but I had a feeling that underneath my clouded point-of-view, I had just handled the boy rather roughly.

"Harley…" Max called out.

"I want you, Max," I told him firmly, beginning to unzip his adorable little pantaloons. I managed to do it with one hand, then pulled the shorts down to his ankles, where they dropped to the floor. "You're never going to leave me, you know."

Max pressed his back into my chest, letting his head rest on my shoulder. I kissed the side of his head, keeping him straddled on my lap as I then slid his off his shirt. His glasses messily fell from their position, and the boy removed them, setting the things somewhere else. I leaned the boy back, managing to have his lips connect with mine and kiss him thoroughly.

Very aggressively, I flipped Max over, pushing him against the bed sheets and crawling over him. I swiftly removed my jacket and tank-top, throwing them on the floor and following up with unbuckling my belt. Before I took off my pants, I smashed our lips together, lapping my tongue against the walls of his warm, hot mouth and guiding my hand down his body, into his tight undies. Max quivered beneath me, startled by how rough I was being. He tried to push me away, obviously scared, but I kept myself on top of him, beginning to grind our lower-halves together, desperately.

"Harley!" Max gasped. "Stop!"

I did, looking down at the boy with consideration. He looked so helpless, but so goddamn fuckable, and at the same time, pure. I slid my pants down my thighs, removing them completely. Max reached up, stroking my upper-arm and trying to calm me. I kissed his fingers when they lingered around my shoulder blades and then fumbled into Max's undies again, causing his cock to twitch to life and slowly become hard in my palm. I stroked him continuously, watching as he writhed and let his hips rise into my touch.

"Max, you're adorable," I acclaimed hazily. "So adorable!"

The boy made a noise of desperation, allowing me to slide off his undies and spread his legs far enough for me to worm my way between them, urging him to wrap them around my hips. When he did, I moaned, feeling our cocks connect and rub against each other. With his eyes closed, Max moaned my name, very clearly this time. I lifted one of his thighs with my arm, using a single finger to trace behind him and press between his glorious bottom. I could feel the nervousness rise in Max, but I continued to press, eventually gliding my finger directly into the boy.

I stared at the boy's expression, watching as he furrowed his brow and let his mouth drop open, a silent gasp escape his lips. He looked so amazing like this and with him so tightly pressed against me, in my arms, I couldn't help but go mad with desire, causing the blur in my head to rise again. Almost in a sense of anger, I grated our bodies together, much rougher than I anticipated. Max winced, possibly from the thrust or possibly because I was holding his leg up with such force.

I decided to lean forward, scraping my teeth along his shoulder and then letting my mouth reach his. I fused our lips, gliding our tongues together at the same time that I thrust myself wildly against him. Max shut his eyes, breathing heavily and obviously trying to imitate the way I was able to twist my hips.

"Your breath stinks," Max commented softly, "and you're being too rough."

"Oh?" I wondered, flicking my tongue on his cheek.

Unable to control the craving I had to be inside the boy's taut ass, I lifted my hips up and pushed him closer to me, causing him to lie directly on his back with his legs far enough apart for my own access. After wetting my hand with my saliva and so forth, I began pushing into Max, barely giving _him _time to prepare for the penetration. He gave a very aggravated grunt, pulling away from me to avoid the pressure invading him.

"Calm down," I coaxed, but sadly I knew it lacked concern.

"Harley!" he complained. "You're hurting me!"

But, I just sank all the way forward, thrusting into his body completely and making him yell out in pain. I lolled my head back, amazed at the feeling and unable to understand what the boy had muttered beneath me. I took his hard length in my hand, enveloping it tightly and stroking it against my palm. Max writhed around still, making hissing grunts and keeping his eyes shut.

"Harley!" he repeated.

"Shh," I simply told him, moving my hips to slide almost all the way out before thrusting into him all over again. I did this once more, holding up his legs and using them as support to begin my driving pattern of in and out. "Max, you feel so good, darling," I moaned.

Max said nothing back, so I moved, in and out, pressing deeply and tilting my hips to force my cock against his vulnerable spot. This caused Max to moan, and I did it again and again, driving into his body, feeling a burn of pleasure and pressure surrounding my length until both Max and I shook in completion. I automatically fell forward, my head so dazed and blurred that I couldn't even remember where the two of us were.

"Max," I simply breathed, kissing his neck, "I'm sorry." I knew I had to say this because the boy had revealed _something _that qualified for an apology. I just couldn't remember what, or what I did.

"It hurt," the boy said, and I knew it was a repeat of an earlier statement.

"Darling, I'm sorry, very sorry," I breathed, half-coherently. I kissed the boy, holding his shoulders and pressingly firmly against him. "You know I didn't mean it."

Max said something, but I didn't understand it. I sat up in a much more proper way, looking down at the boy, who seemed to have forgiven me for my roughness and was massaging up and down the side of my body. He still looked a bit drained, in a mix of discomfort and fulfillment, but he gave me a soft smile, which I returned. His hair was a complete mess, and his body was laid out so wantonly, but he looked exquisite to me right now. He always looked so exquisite. And, yet, I had hurt him in a selfish fit of drunken obscurity.

I ran my fingers through his hair, keeping my eyes locked on his. He was giving me _that look _again, the one I knew meant something very special, and yet I simply did not like because it disturbed me. But, he was magnificent, and the fact I had hurt him and he already forgave me made me want to sing lamentations of his glory. He was so worthy of being ravished and pampered, and I just couldn't help being so enthralled by his combination of adorable, yet flaunted, innocence. Oh, little Maximus. My faunlet. My love. My darling. My tart. My sweet. Fucking hell, I loved him!

…_oh…_

I now stared down at the boy blankly. My body froze, and I felt a lump in my throat, startled by the revelation, that somehow, I already knew in the back of my head the whole time. I let the words flow in my head over and over, and nothing changed in the sincerity of it. I let my lips part, almost—_almost—_ready to say it, but then it struck me. If I said it to him—which was so bloody unlike me in the first place that I wanted to puke!—he simply would not believe me because I was absolutely plastered. I felt stuck.

Yet, it was so obviously what he had wanted to say to me yesterday and possibly on his birthday, too, when I had given him the umbrella. He was falling for me, and dammit, I had already fallen for his stupid little faunlet-y ass! What the _fuck _was wrong with me? Never had I even imagined uttering those three words to another human being. I wasn't sure I ever told my parents I loved them, even when I was a child. This was different though. Max was so beyond a normal shag, a normal, meaningless fuck-buddy. I did love everything about him, and it seemed so logical that I loved _him._ But, I knew, it could not in the same way Max possibly loved me.

"Harley, what's wrong?"

His words brought me back to reality. I closed my eyes for a moment, then slid out of his body, which made the boy wince in displeasure. I patted his shoulder, pressed my face into his neck, and kissed him repeatedly, trying so hard to do something that felt akin to what I wanted to say to him.

Max detected the weirdness, and repeated, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm just sorry," I told him. "You know I didn't intend to hurt my darling little faunlet, right?"

The boy slowly nodded. "It's okay," he assured, and he moved his face so he could kiss me on the lips. "You're not going to throw-up on me, are you?"

"No, Max, I hold my alcohol remarkably well," I told him, finally feeling a bit of soberness wash upon me (only a little though). "But, I do think I need a cigarette," I then admitted.

Max sat up, crossing his legs and smiling impishly. "Do you remember me telling you about the stone?"

"The one Misty gave you?" I wondered, reaching over and grabbing my pants that were hanging at the edge of the bed. I removed my cigarettes and lighter from the pocket and lit a stick up jauntily. "Ah, see I remember her name." I rubbed the temple of my head, feeling a headache forming from the liquor.

"Yeah," Max nodded. "What do _you _think I should do?"

"I never evolved any of my Pokémon with a stone," I admitted, inhaling some fumes afterward. "I caught my Wigglytuff as a Wigglytuff."

"Oh," he said, cocking his head still. "But, do you think I should evolve Murkrow right away?"

I smiled as I sucked in more smoke, keeping the stick between my lips. We had just fucked and now Max had decided to talk about his Pokémon's evolution. What a strange kid he was, but goodness, his nerdy, little dorkish aspects were something that I just… well, I didn't really want to say the word now. But, the thought of that cursed word ignited some emotions, and I couldn't help but move forward, kissing Max deeply. I knew I had breathed in some smoke into his mouth as I did so, but I didn't think he exactly minded.

"Well, Maximus," I told him, "I think that you should consult little Murkrow, and see what he wants."

"Yeah," Max agreed, "but is evolving him going to make a difference? Murkrow's really strong."

I shrugged, clamping my fingers together and holding the cigarette tightly. "Speaking of that," I started, raising an eyebrow, "when you battled Misty today, did you win?"

Max rolled his eyes and gave an annoyed look. "No," he admitted. "She beat me. Pretty quickly, too."

I extended my arm and patted him on the back. "Poor thing," I soothed, crawling a few inches over to him using my elbows and then lying on my stomach. I rested my head on his knee, and gave him a frustrated smirk. "My head hurts," I admitted.

Max rolled his eyes. "Maybe I should never leave you alone again." He sighed. "Which is really pathetic because you're a grown man!"

I laughed and rolled onto my back. "So, do you think your little friend there is going to tell your other little friends about you shagging me like some hot-off-the-grill gossip?"

"No," Max said, shaking his head. "She hardly sees them anymore, and I don't think she'd do that to me. I'm sure she knows it's not exactly the most fantastic news."

"Hm," I mused, breathing in the last of the cigarette and then putting it out on the wall. I threw what was left on the floor, the end all ashy and black.

I began messing with the sheets, getting under the thinnest layer and then gesturing Max to do the same. I stroked his hair after he did, trying to think of something I could say that would mean more than anything I had previously said to him. But, I couldn't think of a single thing. I had pretty much said everything _but _those three words. And, once again, what the _fuck _was wrong with me? It was already bad enough I had fallen for someone, but why on bloody earth did it have to be a little faunlet child like Maximus? Christ!

I sighed heavily, deciding it was best to just go to sleep and let my headache go away, and hopefully, if I was lucky, my thoughts, too.

xxxxx

_-Harley-_

When I felt someone shaking me roughly, my first instinct was to swing my arm at them and hit them square in the mouth. But, as I rolled onto my side and tried to dodge the blinding sun, some jumbled thoughts and realizations came to me, and I remembered where I was, and therefore, who was shaking me.

"Mm, Max, what do you want?" I grunted, throwing an arm over my eyes. "My head is killing me…"

I heard Max sigh. "The stop to Ochroid Cove is coming up in like thirty minutes," he told me. "I promised Misty I'd come see her before she had to leave."

I opened my eyes and looked at Max dully. "Then go, darling," I said.

"I-I want you to come with me," he then revealed. "Staying cooped up in here won't be good for you."

"It will, because I'm hungover," I complained, sitting up in annoyance. When my sight finally cleared, I saw that Max was sitting on his knees, still unclothed. I couldn't help brightening up at this, because he was just so adorable all naked and frustrated at me. I gestured for him to lean down, which he did, and I happily claimed his mouth. "You're adorable, Maximus. Let's stay in here and shag, mmkay?"

"You're too hungover to get up, but not for that?" he questioned. He pulled my arm, not waiting for an answer. "Please, Harley! I think she'd like to see you again. She said you were attractive after all."

"Oh, now did she?" I wondered, rolling my eyes into the back of my head. "What am I supposed to do with a compliment like that from a lanky female redhead?"

"Come on, Harley," he continued. "You know our stop is tonight, so you might as well get up and enjoy the ship while you can."

"Hmm," I said, raising my eyebrows. "You have a point there, darling. But, are you sure this isn't just an ambush? You sure your friend wasn't lying to you last night and really is just waiting to murder me for corrupting your sweet virgin ass?"

"I'm sure," the boy said, pulling my arm once more.

"Okay, fine," I agreed, forcing him into a kiss once more before I sat up.

"Thank you," he said, getting off the bed and beginning to get dressed.

I climbed out of bed much more groggily and promptly changed into my clothes as well. I then went into the small bathroom and washed up, rinsing my mouth out with mouthwash at least ten times before exiting. When I returned to the small room, Max was straightening up the room, making the bed like a little faunlet maid. I walked over to him, pressing my chest against his back and flicking my tongue around his neck. The boy shivered, and I twirled him around, picking him up and forcing his legs around my body.

"I can't wait until we get to Slateport," I told the boy. "The first thing we need to do is christen my house with a nice, hot shag, don't you agree?"

"As if it hasn't been already," the boy grunted, trying to make me put him down.

"Well, not by my darling Maximus and I," I explained, kissing his neck gently. I felt Max getting antsy, so I let him get down.

"Let's go," he said, grabbing his bag and leading me out of the room.

I followed him as he walked along, and apparently this Misty girl's room was just a level above us, in first class as well. I supposed she couldn't be _that _bad if she was amongst us here, but she was still a Gym Leader, and I really did not like them. But, anyway, when Max arrived at her room, he knocked several times, waiting for her to open up.

Eventually, she did, dressed in an outfit very similar to yesterday's: shorts and a plain shirt. She was very much a tomboy, but she still was rather pretty, and why she dressed down was beyond me.

"Max!" she exclaimed, brightening up immediately and smiling widely as she gestured for us to come into the room. As she moved from the doorway, allowing Max to enter, her eyes trailed up to my own, and her smile changed, much more mindfully. "And, Harley, what a pleasure," she greeted.

I gave her a smile back, but I wasn't sure whether or not it was fake, to be honest. I just walked into the room, seeing her suitcase on the bed, which she was apparently trying to organize. The clothing inside consisted mainly of jeans and shorts and jean shorts, and I found it sort of humorous.

"I meant to come by earlier," Max explained, "but I only just woke up."

"That's all right," she said, walking back over to her suitcases and placing in some plastic bags, which looked like they were from a gift shop. "So, how are you two this morning?" she wondered, and maybe I was just feeling a bit unveiled by the fact she knew about Maximus and I, but I swore there was something hidden in her tone.

"Fine," Max answered. "Um, I hope you don't mind that I asked Harley to come."

"Not at all," Misty replied. "It _is _nice seeing you again."

"Likewise," I told her with a nod. I really had no idea what the hell I was supposed to tell this girl though.

"I hear you don't get along with Max's sister," she blurted out, closing the suitcase.

I laughed. "Indeed that's true," I admitted. "May is not my favorite character around. She's rather annoying, to say the least."

"I didn't think so," Misty replied. "I thought she was sweet. I have a hard time believing anyone could hate her at all."

"I guess we saw different sides of her," I grunted. I rolled my eyes away from Misty's view. When I spotted Max giving me a dirty look—apparently having seen me roll my eyes—I smiled sweetly at him, and I quickly said out loud, "Of course, Maximus here is the exact opposite of his sister." I patted his head.

"Well, I would hope you think that," Misty said nonchalantly. "Hey, if you knew May from Contests, did you know Max before he was a trainer?"

I nodded, putting a hand on my hip and giving a sly smile. "I did, and so did you. I think we can both agree he hasn't changed all that much, although he's certainly more of a little man now." I turned and gave Max a wink. "Quite a faunlet, to be honest."

My latter statement made Misty a bit uneasy. She let her eyes narrow, and she bit her lower lip. "I wouldn't put it _that _way," she responded, "but he certainly has matured."

"Matured indeed," I agreed, laughing beneath my breath.

Again Misty seemed uncomfortable. She looked at me for a while, and as she did, the foghorn went off, a clear sign that the stop at Ochroid Cove was coming up. She suddenly wondered, "I never asked Max about this, but where are you two going anyway?"

"Slateport," Max said, jumping into the conversation. I sensed he had caught onto Misty's discomfort, too. "That's where, um, Harley lives."

I nodded in an exaggerated sense of happiness. "Yes, I've decided to take my darling back to my hometown. He's been there before, but now he has more time to appreciate the beaches."

Misty straightened her shirt and then grabbed her luggage. "I suppose I ought to be getting on deck, but please follow," she said, gesturing for us leave the room with her.

As we walked, Misty leading the way, Max turned around and glared at me. He had easily seen through my statements, which were, of course, all said to tease and flaunt our relationship in front of Misty. I was amused by how she had seemed a bit uncomfortable with the whole situation once I had began talking wonders about Max. Now I was under the impression this Misty girl had just thought Max and I were just this happy, celibate couple who strictly enjoyed talking and looking at each other. I was certain the fact we fucked like crazy never even crossed her mind.

I began to feel the ship slow down, and from the scarce windows we walked by every now and then, I could see the small harbor. The town looked incredibly desolate and tiny. I had to wonder what Misty was going to do here.

"What are you going to do in Ochroid Cove?" Max asked, as if reading my mind.

"I just have to switch ships is all," Misty answered, "which is too bad, because I would've loved to have spent more time with you."

"I'll be in Cerulean City one day," the boy told her with a nod, just as we got on deck. By now, the ship had almost completely slowed down, simply moving from the ocean's rough waves.

"Maybe I'll be there, too!" I then exclaimed, raising my eyebrows high.

"Maybe…" Misty said, smiling nervously. Then, she looked at Max again, and asked, "Hey, have you decided what to do with the Dusk Stone?"

"Yeah, I'm going to wait a while to evolve Murkrow," Max said. "I'm 100 percent positive Murkrow is willing to evolve anyway, but I still want to wait."

"That sounds like a good plan," Misty finalized. She watched as some of the ship workers prepared the metal ramp for passengers to get off, and then said, "Well, I'm glad I ran into you, Max. If I talk to Ash and Brock, I'll be sure to tell them you said hi."

"Okay. And thank you for the stone again."

"Sure," Misty said. She gave Max a smile and then turned to get in line with the rest of the passengers who were waiting to get off the ship.

Once she was far enough away from us, I put my hand on my hip again, sighing. "Well, she certainly does not like me."

Max made a scoff sound. "I don't blame her! Way to freak her out like that!"

"I hardly said anything," I defended. "I just think her version of what a relationship consists of is _shockingly _different than reality."

Now Max laughed. "Actually, I thought the same thing yesterday, too," the boy admitted. "She said something about reading Victorian romance novels or something."

I grunted, blocking my eyes from the sun. "_Why _did you spend all of yesterday with her and not me?"

"You're the one who left," Max pointed out. "And we did spend time together!" he then barked.

"We woke up, skipped breakfast, later had lunch, then had a shag," I summarized. I looked at Max with exaggerated annoyance. "And I got wasted in between all of that. Now, I love drinking, but I think I would've rather spent my time with you."

Max gave a sincere smile, and there was something very soft in it. "I guess that's a compliment," Max said. "So, what are we going to do _today_?"

"I'll leave that up to you," I told him. "We can spend the entire day in our cozy little room, or we can mingle with these weirdos aboard the ship and waste away our sanity."

"You make it sound so one-way." Max looked over to where Misty had went, seeing that she was just about to walk onto the ramp and onto the harbor. She turned around and waved to him, and Max waved back, giving her a warm smile as a farewell. When he was through, he looked back at me, and decided, "Let's just go back to the room. I don't really feel up to being social today."

I grinned. "Good, because neither do I." I pushed the boy forward, urging him to walk. "Besides, the sun is _killing _my head."

"Can you explain to me the point of getting drunk like that?" Max asked as we walked. "Because I don't understand why you'd do something that'd make you feel so terrible later on."

"It felt right at the time," I explained to him. "And, like I said, I _do _hold my alcohol well, so it's not like I puke all over the place, right?"

Max didn't seem too convinced by my answer, or at least didn't find my actions justifiable even with my explanation. I suppose I shouldn't have cared, because he was just a kid, and hadn't experienced anything with the wonders of drinking, but then again, he didn't want me to drink because he liked me, so I couldn't be too insulted. It was incredibly sweet that he even bothered to put up with me after seeing me drunk (or tipsy) on several occasions. Maybe Max would grow up with a penchant for alcohol, just like me. Then maybe we could get wasted together and then have sloppy sex. It sure sounded fun to me.

That would happen only if Max stuck around long enough though. _I _was positive I could keep things fresh enough not to make the poor boy bored, and as long as Max stayed as faunlet-y and adorable as he was now—which I was fairly certain he could—then I doubted I'd become bored myself. And that meant everything could remain fantastic.

There was still an issue of whether or not what I felt for the damn faunlet was truly worth vocally admitting. I had no _real fear _of saying it; I wasn't one of those dumb bastards who never admitted their feelings. I was quite the opposite, actually, as I _always _admitted what I felt, but this was different, because I had never said _that _to another person. I was positive if I did say it to Max it would've sounded so false and just plain lame. And besides, how long were my feelings going to last?

I let out a grunt as Max and I reentered our room. For some reason, it felt smaller than before, and I felt like I was crowded around Max. I walked over to the window and closed the blind, trying desperately to make my headache go away. Afterward, I decided to just lie down, so I stripped myself of my boots, hat and jacket and lied down on the bed tiredly. Max crawled on the bed, too, relaxing beside me, which I sincerely did not expect him to do.

"I think I'm going to write my letter to May," Max said proudly. "But, every time I try and think about what I might say, I come up empty for words."

"Just start it off telling her you're fucking me. I'm sure that will get her attention."

Max crawled back to the end of the bed, taking out a notebook from his backpack as well as a pen. When he returned to where I was, he sat against the headboard and opened the notebook. He made a humming sound, trying to figure out how to start off his letter. I hope he didn't expect me to help, because the fact he was actually writing this letter _in front _of me made me want to barf.

"_Dear May,_" he read out loud as he wrote, "_I thank you tremendously for sending me a birthday card. It was very unexpected, but I greatly appreciated it._"

"What the fuck are you writing, a formal letter to a king or a friendly letter to your sister?"

Max glared at me. "Leave me alone!" he shouted. "It's not _your _letter to criticize."

I laughed anyway. "All right, Maximus, but if she responds with a simple 'what the fuck, Max?' don't blame me."

"Anyway," he sternly stated, continuing to write. He placed the tip of the pen back on the paper and wrote another sentence, then reading it out: "_It's really hard for me to decide what to say, because we haven't spoken in so long, but I have to admit, I'm really glad to be writing to you._"

"Hmm," I mused, rolling onto my stomach and stuffing my face into the pillow. "How about just writing her a dirty letter and signing it from Drew?" I suggested, mumbling into the cushion.

Ignoring me, Max then said and wrote, "_I earned my seventh badge the other day, and once the Gym Leader in Blackthorn City returns—she's on vacation—I'll be challenging her for my final badge. Anyway, I've been wondering how you've been doing in the Orange Islands—_"

I interrupted Max, exclaiming, "Oh, and that _reminds _me! Since you're apparently all open to telling me where your sister is now—even after vowing you wouldn't—how would you feel if I just abandoned you to go track her down?"

"You're not that obsessed with her," Max noted, giving me a deadpanned look. "And, I know I said I wouldn't tell you, but I really doubt you care, right?"

"Right," I answered. "And I haven't since the beginning, but you didn't believe me. You know, I didn't even know they had Contests in the Orange Islands."

"They have Gyms, too," I told him. "Maybe we should go." He put his pen down and looked at me more seriously.

"Islands," I mused happily. "Ooh, that sounds nice. Ever want to fuck on a beach, Max?"

"Don't you have a beach back home?"

"Oh, is that a spark of interest?" I wondered, grinning wildly. "Because we could do that in Slateport, if you really wanted!"

"Who wants to do that on the sand?" Max asked, obviously musing over it a bit too much. "I mean, I could imagine it would end up in some really weird places."

I snorted in laughter. "It does, Max, believe me." I smiled at him.

Max rolled his eyes. "Is there anything you _haven't _done?"

"I haven't spanked anyone," I admitted nonchalantly. "I also never fucked anyone on a sleeping bag. So, see, you and I definitely have done some things for my record book."

"I guess so," the boy said. "Now, what else do you think I should write?" he asked, looking at the paper.

"I don't know, Max," I told him, stuffing my face in the pillow again.

"_Anyway, I've been wondering how you've been doing in the Orange Islands,_" he reread. He then picked up his pen, deciding on continuing with: "_I've been thinking about going there next, although I heard they only have four Gyms and what's considered the League there is way different and structured in a different way, too._"

"Been thinking about?" I repeated. "You little liar."

"Well, what am I supposed to write?" he demanded. "This is hard enough."

"I really wish you'd stop asking me that," I voiced. "If you don't know, how would _I_?"

"_Sometimes, May, I can't even remember why we stopped talking,"_ Max wrote, "_but I know it had to do with me being childish and not supporting you venturing out on your own. I'm sorry._"

"Why should _you _apologize, Max?" I shouted, sitting up finally.

"Because if I don't, she won't either. And that would be really dumb." He went back to writing, and apparently this sentence took longer than the others, so I figured it was going to be very dramatic. Once he was done, he read to me, "_To be frank, I'm really hoping the two of us can talk start talking again, because it's never been the same since we stopped communicating._"

I looked over at Max's letter, seeing his handwriting, which was remarkably neat and tidy unlike I suspected. I hadn't realized I never saw his handwriting before. But I wasn't sure I liked the way he wrote his lowercase _B_s.

"Do you think if I told her I'll be in Slateport City, she'll suspect anything?" he wondered before he finished his letter.

"Are you kidding? She's an idiot."

Max glared at me heavily, so I put up my hands in defense, and he went on to write his final sentence. He presented me the entire letter, which I read rather quickly, skipping over the parts he read out loud. The last sentence stated: _I'm killing some time before I battle Clair, so I decided to train in Slateport City after being given a cruise ticket to there by a friend. If you want to call me or write me back, contact the Pokémon Center there, and I'll be sure to call you back. Love, Max._

I shrugged. "Sounds like a reasonable explanation as to why you're going to be in my hometown," I said.

"Well, _I _didn't even remember you lived there at first, so I doubt she'll make a connection. Besides, do you think she even remembers you?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Um, well," the boy pondered, pursing his lips, "to be honest, I never thought about you that much before we ran into each other in Goldenrod City."

"Hmm. I didn't think about you either, actually." I then shrugged. "Oh well, it doesn't matter now," I told him, scooting over and snaking an arm around his hip.

Max tore the letter out of the notebook's binding and folded it neatly. He then put it in an envelope he had hidden between the notebook's pages and sealed it with a lick of his tongue. I nuzzled at the boy's shoulder, more of a bored gesture than anything else. Max patted my head in a weird way, either trying to get me to stop leaning on him or maybe even mocking me for always doing it to him.

"I feel sea sick," I mumbled into his neck.

"You're just hungover," he told me, throwing his notebook on the ground and readjusting himself on the bed. "Hey, what time are we supposed to be at Slateport anyway?"

I shrugged. "Soon, I think," I told the boy, kissing his lower jaw. "Do you want to fuck?"

Max gave me a weird look as redness developed around his cheeks. "You don't normally come out and ask like that."

"Well, I am now, so what do you say?" I slid my hand under his shirt, trailing it up and down. "We don't have much else to do, and you just look so sweet and ravishing right now. Well, you always do, but you know, I think it's a bit remarkably obvious more so than usual, and that definitely means something considering you're always sweet and ravishing."

Max furrowed his brow, obviously very confused by my jumbled words. Before he could say anything, I kissed him directly on the mouth, sucking on his bottom lip for a moment or two. To my surprise, Max was quick to start unbuckling my belt, which caused me to give him a messy smile, concentrating on how the palm of his hands felt against my skin as he took off my pants. I removed the boy's glasses and shirt fairly quickly, then pressed my mouth on his stomach, sliding down his body and beginning to unzip his shorts. I could already feel the boy getting hard when I slipped off his cute undies.

I began fondling the boy slowly, causing his eyes to fall shut and his hips rise into my touch. I reached down to tend to myself until Max ended up extending his arm, enveloping his hand around my cock and stroking it gently. I lowered myself against the boy's body, still allowing his hand to stay on me, and kissed his neck. I felt his face steam with embarrassment, a shaky unease at touching me this way. I let out a sincere moan of appreciation, moving my hips against his palm eagerly.

"Darling," I whispered down to him, "you should touch me more often."

Max just made a noise, either uncomfortable with my words or not believing me. I claimed his mouth, sliding my tongue in and letting it move against his, warm and wet. Max swung his arms around me, and I began thrusting his length into my hand once more, still keeping our mouths fused. The boy moaned into me when I pushed myself between his legs.

"Harley," the boy breathed, tilting his head to the side. He helped me as I brought his legs to my sides, basically swinging them across my lap and thrusting his hips upwards. He moaned out my name again, this time, much more lusty.

"Impatient little bugger," I called out, grating our bodies. "Oh, you're not even interested in taking this slow today, are you, you little faunlet?"

Max shut his eyes as he spoke. "No," he admitted. "So… _just please_…"

I chuckled as I spit roughly into my hand, continuing to hold up Max's legs. I rubbed it onto myself, remembering to be much slower and considerate than I had been last night. But, as I positioned myself to press into the boy, Max clasped his hands around my shoulders, pushing himself forward and forcing me to begin entering him. He yelled out in his own muffled bit of pain, but relaxed instantly, and I was startled by how eager the boy was to have me fuck him.

"Harley, move, please, Harley."

I lolled my head back in amazement at his words, and not needing to be told again. Despite his grunts of pain, I began thrusting into him, and he tightened his grip on my shoulders, throwing his head back and shouting my name loudly. When I slowed myself, he protested, and so, I continued driving into his body, over and over at a frantic, needy pace.

Max wrapped his legs around my body as I loomed over him, thrusting upwards with every downward shove I gave. His muscles clenched and tightened, creating an fabulous pressure around my cock, a sensation I tried to emulate as I kept my hand tightly encircled around the boy's hardness. It wasn't long before I felt myself growing weak and on the edge of a climax, so completely fulfilled already by the boy's enthusiasm and impatience.

"My sweet little faunlet," I panted, kissing his arms and shoulders.

Max gasped loudly, feeling my hand around his cock, and thrusting it at the same speed that I pushed myself in and out of his taut, warm entrance. I twisted my hips, finally shouting his name in completion and feeling the boy climax simultaneously into my hand. He immediately collapsed backwards, drained of all his energy. I held my weight by my arms for a while until I felt his legs unravel around me, and I allowed myself to collapse next to him as I wiped away his release on the sheets.

When I turned to look at him, his eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily, his small chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. And, I couldn't help myself: I leaned over, lying back over the boy and pressing our lips together, kissing him fervently.

"Max, darling," I whispered, holding up his chin so he couldn't look away. His eyes bore into me, knowing I was about to say something big. And, so, I inhaled before breathing out, "Max, you're mine, and _I love you, _and no one's ever going to take you away from me."

xxxxx

_-Max-_

Harley's fingers were almost tickling my chin as he held it up, ensuring I was looking only at him and that he was looking only at me. His pupils didn't even shift a bit when he said his words, and all I could do was stare at him dumbly, not moving, not even seeming to breathe. When I blinked, his fingers twitched beneath my chin, and then, very slowly, he lowered himself, pressing his mouth on mine and kissing me just as deeply as he did before he said that unforgettable sentence.

But, the silence just kept floating along, and I even felt my skin start to cool off in the air that suddenly seemed really cold. I licked my lips, unsure what to say, and Harley's fingers finally moved, only to run through my hair.

Had he really said that? Had he even meant to? He had said so many things in between it, he might've just let it slip or maybe he was just joking. But, he said it. Even if it was a mistake, it at least meant he had thought about it. I closed my eyes, very scared now, and I wanted to push him away, because I felt _humiliated._

"Max," the man then said, pressing his face into my neck, "I meant it."

_Meant it_? This caused me to open my eyes, and he looked back at me, continuing to stroke my hair. And, yet, something inside me was fluttering again, and I knew why. I wanted to say something back. No, not just _something,_ but _those words._ Why couldn't I have said it first? If I had, there wouldn't be this awkward silence, this awkward halt in my courage to speak up and say what I had actually been meaning to say for a while, but just _couldn't._

I just couldn't. Because I was too young. Too unknowing of the value and meaning of that phrase. But, why then was I so sure? If I was capable of loving my parents and loving my sister, I had to be capable of loving Harley and being _in love _with him. The extent might have been different, but… I had never felt anything like this in my life, _nothing. _And, yeah, sure, I could be so annoyed with him, but at the same time I'd want nothing more than for him to touch and kiss and be around me. And, of course, do what we just did.

But, all I could do was stare up at him.

"Don't act like you didn't just hear me," he then chided, and there was a sense of sincere anger in his tone. "I know you did, Max, so don't lie to me, because I'm sure as hell not lying to you."

"Harley…" I finally called out, gaping widely as his hand stilled in my hair.

"I fucking love you, you little faunlet."

And, then, he kissed me again, smashing our lips together wildly and making my heart race. It was such a different kiss. It was almost like the kiss proved the three words he just said. And, above all else, it allowed me to say:

"Harley, I love you, too."

"I knew it!" he exclaimed, laughing maniacally and then kissing me again.

I kissed him back, craning my neck and pressing as deeply into him as I could manage. Just like he had, I ran my hand through his hair, then sat up when Harley began lifting me by the underarms. I looked at him for a while, not wanting to say anything, but simply stare at him. I didn't doubt my words for a second, because I knew—I knew so surely—that it was true. How it was possible, now _that _I didn't know, but I couldn't possibly care about that.

"Stop it," Harley then said, breaking the silence. "You're creeping me out just staring at me like that."

I laughed and apologized immediately. "I'm sorry," I said, "but I can't help it."

"I'm just so gorgeous, huh?"

"I just never thought you'd, well, I don't know… say it back…"

"Why wouldn't I?" he wondered, lifting my chin again. "You're adorable! Very worthy of my love!"

I rolled my eyes, but kept myself pressed against him, and slowly, I linked my arms around his body, allowing him to hold me further. He ran his hand up and down my back, and kissed my neck repeatedly.

"I wish someone had told me like three years ago that this was going to happen," I voiced. "I mean, I don't think I would've believed them, but I wonder what else I would've thought."

"Oh, you would've been absolutely fascinated," he assured me. "I once considered the same thing, and I, too, didn't think I would believe them, but now I'm sure I would've been very curious about it, then maybe realized I wanted you sooner."

"I wonder what Misty's doing right now," I said, giving a thoughtful look. "And May. And, even Drew. Don't you?"

Harley shrugged. "No, why?" he wondered.

"I don't know," I replied. "I guess I just have to wonder if anything they're doing is half as interesting as what we're doing."

"What are _we _doing?" he then asked. "Talking?"

"Stop, Harley," I demanded. "You're ruining my thoughts."

Harley laughed, and pushed me back down against the mattress. "I could go for an ice cream sundae right about now," he told me, sucking at my shoulder.

"Hey, it's raining," I suddenly noted, seeing the crack between the curtains. The raindrops were coming down hard, slapping against the glass window and creating a hollow echo throughout the room that I only now noticed with the short silence.

Harley turned to look. "Oh, so it is," he noted. "And we're getting close to Slateport, too. I guess that means they'll be no fucking on the beach tonight."

"I never agreed to that," I protested, frowning at him.

"No, you sure didn't," he said, "but since I mentioned it I began plotting up ways to get you to."

I scoffed and began breaking away from his embrace so I could get under the sheets. The sight of the rain had suddenly made me very cold. Harley forced a single arm around me as he got under the sheets, too, and then muttered something about wanting a cigarette, but being too lazy to get up and find his pants.

"I think I feel the ship slowing down," he then mumbled. Suddenly, he had the energy to get up. He wandered over to the window, tearing open the curtains and staring outside through the rain. "Oh, yes!" he exclaimed.

"Yes, what?" I wondered. "Shouldn't you put some clothes on? You don't know what kind of people might be spying at this ship."

"We're definitely in Slateport City," he told me, ignoring my compliant. "I recognize the harbor."

"Really?" I wondered, sitting up. "Wow, I almost wish we hadn't slept so much on the ship. It feels like we wasted our time onboard."

"Pish-posh," the man dismissed. "What would we have done? Played Bingo in the lounge?"

I managed to get all the way out of bed and began to put my clothes on, beginning with my shirt. When Harley turned to see what I was doing, he stilled me, putting both his hands on either of my shoulders and getting down onto his knees, like he always did.

"You should wear those undies I gave you today," he suggested, smiling devilishly.

"Why?" I asked, scrunching up my face in confusion.

"Because if I don't tell you to, you never will remember to wear them."

I broke away from his grip, finding my normal underwear and putting them on quickly. Harley made a displeased grunt, then decided he, too, should put on his clothes. As Harley pulled on his pants and re-buckled his belt, I put away my notebook into my bag, having already finished dressing. Even though I had my back to the man, I could sense he was about to light a cigarette, and sure enough, I heard the flickering of his lighter, and soon, the smell seep into the air.

It was odd, because although Harley and I had just admitted something to each other that was very big, things still felt the same. And I was glad for that. I had feared a sense of awkwardness in air and in our interactions, but thankfully, we seemed to remain just the same. The only difference, however, was that I felt relieved and almost, well, mushy towards everything. I had never even dreamed—not _once—_that I'd be with someone who admitted they loved me. And admitted before I even did. _That _overjoyed me: the fact that I didn't have to say it before he did.

I turned to look at Harley, who was exhaling a smoky cloud, and walked over to him. Too short to ignite anything right off the bat, Harley was able to catch onto my expression, and bent down to allow me to kiss him straight on the mouth. He put a hand behind my head, pushing me further into the liplock before breaking apart and then stamping a small kiss on my cheek.

"Harley," I said, helping him straighten out his jacket, which he had put on way too messily, "I'm hungry, aren't you?"

"Oh, no, I am forbidding you of food until we get to my house," he explained, breathing in some smoke afterward. "Because when we get there, I am going to cook you something extravagant!"

I gave him an odd look. "Fine, but if I faint from starvation, it's on you," I grunted.

Harley and I then heard the loud, echoing foghorn of the ship, and the man returned to looking outside the window. He sucked in some fumes, watching as the ship very slowly approached the wooden harbor. I stood next to him, recognizing some of the large buildings in the city, most especially the large, pentagon-shaped one that stood on the far hill. It was the Contest Hall that May had participated in her first Contest and also where she competed in the Grand Festival. There was still a while until we would be able to get off the ship and neither of us were in a hurry to leave the room, so I asked:

"Where's your house?"

"Hmm," Harley hummed, moving around to see if he could spot it from where we were on sea. He pointed to a large, black building, and said, "It's further behind that thing. You can see some of the other beach houses between the gap there, but not mine."

I stood on my tip-toes, trying to see what he was talking about. "What are your neighbors like?" I then wondered.

Harley scoffed loudly as he tapped some cigarette ashes onto the floor. "You think I talk to them?" he asked rhetorically. "It doesn't matter though. I'm sure they don't like me, and when they realize I'm bringing home some underage tart like you, their hate will only flourish."

"Shouldn't they be minding their own business?"

"They should," he said, "but they won't. And, you know, I sense some of my neighbors are pretty fucked-up anyway, so if any strange-looking men come up to you, my suggestion would be to run, because no one gets to touch you but _moi_, okay?"

"Do you think I'd let them?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, actually, I don't," he revealed, pretty self-assured, "because why the _fuck _would you want some forty year-old wanking you, when you have young, lively me doing that already?"

I ignored Harley's comment, spotting at the very edge of our window's view, some of the ship worker's setting out the metal ramp. "Maybe we should go now," I suggested, turning and grabbing my bag from the floor.

Harley and I began walking out to the deck where we were permitted to exit. As this was the very last stop on the cruise, the population onboard look scarce compared to the many, many people who had previously crowded every last inch of the deck. The two of us walked down the ramp, all the meanwhile, feeling another vast change in the flooring, just like when we originally boarded.

As I stepped onto the concrete harbor I realized quite quickly how unstable I had felt (but not realized) while staying on the swaying, unsteady ship. I was very glad to be back on land, and thankfully, I already felt myself getting used to the change, unlike the vice versa swap of going from land to sea.

I turned around, stopping and asked Harley, "So, which way to your house?"

"I prefer to call it_Maison de Harley_," he revealed proudly, putting a hand on my shoulder and pushing me forward so we could walk side-by-side. "I prefer you call it that, too."

"Who names their house?" I demanded, furrowing my brow. We walked over a wooden mock-bridge that crossed over the sandy part of the beach, eventually reaching the normal city streets. "No, wait, more importantly, who names their house after themselves?"

"I guess I do," he said to me even more proudly. "And why not? You should name things after great things. And I'm pretty great."

I rolled my eyes, watching as the man suddenly stopped and extended his arm high into the air. I watched him in confusion, stopping, too, but seeing that almost instantly, a bright yellow and black-rimmed car stopped at the side of the street, right in front of us. It was a taxicab. Harley smiled and gestured to the car, instructing me to get in first.

"What, are you too lazy to walk?" I asked, opening the cab door.

"Yes, actually," he admitted as I climbed into the car.

And, completely unexpectedly, he smacked me right on my bottom, my sight momentarily away from him. As I sat down, I glared at him, watching as he climbed in, too. He laughed beneath his breath, leaning forward and telling the taxi driver where to go. When he settled into his seat, he patted my thigh, obviously trying to makeup for having spanked me so publicly.

"It's so weird to be back here," I noted, staring out the window as the car began to go. "I mean, I never even thought I would be back here, but now it sort of seems like I'm here to watch May compete in a Contest or something."

Harley made a musing sound, nodding, but I could tell he hadn't really listened to me or else he would've made a snide comment. As we rode in silence, he took out his nail filer, beginning to clean up his nails, although, to me, they looked fine. I continued to look out the window, realizing I remembered more about this city than I originally thought. Even some of the stores and restaurants were familiar.

But, the further we traveled, the less I remembered. Harley seemed to live on the complete opposite side of the city, just north of where we had gotten off from the ship. I could still see the large black building he had pointed out, and we were getting closer to it, meaning we must have been getting close to his house. It seemed like a short ride in the taxi, but I knew if we had walked, it would've been taking forever.

After we turned a corner, passing by a long line of businesses, I started to notice that there were fewer buildings and more _houses, _more particularly _beach _houses. I craned my neck to try and get a good look at them, most especially since every single one was unique and totally different than the one next to it. Just as I began looking at one in particular, thinking it might be Harley's, the cab came to a sudden stop and I twirled around to look at Harley next to me.

"_Voila_," he said, gesturing to his side of the car and towards the house we stopped in front of on the street. He handed some money to the driver and quickly pulled me out of the car, gesturing even more properly to the house.

And, in so many weird ways, it was not what I was expecting at all. I was almost certain the house was going to look like some rundown circus mill, but in reality, it was absolutely gorgeous. It was a light green two-story building, very slender, but tall. On both sides of the house were windows jutting out, looming over the front porch and partially around the sandy lawn. From what I could see, the backyard was just the same as the front—covered in sand and surrounded by a pale fence—but it also had the actual ocean washing up on the shore. I simply could not believe that Harley actually owned a _beach house._

"You like?" he wondered, putting a hand on his hip.

"I'm a little shocked," I admitted, walking forward and stepping in the sand. "Oddly enough, when you said beach house, I didn't even think it would actually be on the beach."

"Then you're silly," he insisted, and then he grabbed my arm, dragging me with him as he approached the front door. Instead of digging a key out of his bag, he simply moved the stain-filled welcome mat—which actually didn't say _welcome_ and was just a light blue color—and found his spare key still hidden beneath.

After he unlocked the door and stepped inside, turning on the closest light, I stepped in myself. The first thing I saw the large living room, decorated finely and containing a couch, occasional chair and ottoman, all of which were set around an oak coffee table. Harley continued turning on all the lights, and I noticed that there was not a speck of dust anywhere, confirming the fact he did have a cleaning lady.

The kitchen began at the very end of the living room, starting off with a long breakfast counter and three stools. The kitchen itself was pretty small, simply consisting of the obvious, and not even containing a dining room area. There was a sliding glass door to the very left, and I saw there was another porch in the back, set out right in front of the beach. I walked over, staring out at the back, watching as the waves slammed down onto the shore continuously.

"I hope your silence stands for absolute thrill of being in_ Maison de Harley,_" he stated after a while, setting his bag down on the kitchen counter.

"It is," I admitted, still staring outside. "I can't believe you live in such a beautiful house, Harley."

He chuckled softly and stood beside me, looking out the window, too. To my left, I noticed a den area, decorated with another set of furniture, very similar to the living room. There were also many paintings on the wall, and I guessed Harley liked to pretend he knew something about art or something like that.

"Want to see the upstairs?" he wondered.

"Obviously," I said, following him back into the living room, where the staircase was located, just south of the front entrance.

At the top of the stairs, there was the bathroom to the left and what I assumed was a spare room. Two other rooms were to the right, which was where we were headed. We walked by the first room, which was decorated in hues of blue and purple, but ended up entering the very last room in the hall, which was apparently his room.

I looked around curiously, trying to search for anything that revealed it as being _very obviously _Harley's room. But, to my surprise, there wasn't. It looked very normal, but was more decorated and lavished upon than the other rooms. It had a very specific sort of décor, mostly consisting of elegant and artistic designs, very green and tan color-wise. His bed, placed against the middle of the far wall, was neatly made and seemed almost like a decoration rather than a place where you slept.

"Well, so far I don't think my cleaning lady has stolen anything," he told me. He then turned to look at me and fussed, "Put your bag down, Maximus!"

I did, placing it against his chifferobe dresser. He then grabbed at me, picking me up and grinning like a psycho. Startled, I just sort of stared at him, unsure what he was trying to do. He walked over to his bed, still holding me tight and then dropped me, causing me to unsteadily bounce on the mattress before he crawled over me, smiling even more widely before placing his lips on mine in a quick kiss.

"Oh, yes!" he exclaimed, nodding happily. "You on _my _bed. Now this is something long overdue if you ask me."

"These are soft," I said, feeling the bedspread beneath me, which was a ruby red color. I turned a little, rubbing my cheek against the material.

"They are imported," he revealed, feeling the sheets, too. "I don't buy that wholesale shit for my bed, and why should I? I'm better than that."

"Does it really matter what you sleep on?" I wondered.

"Well, Max, you should know by now that a bed isn't just made for sleeping," the man explained to me, stroking my shoulder. "And, therefore, silky, imported sheets are essential. Now, how about we christen them?" Harley began leaning down, kissing me again.

I gently pushed the man away, rolling my eyes all the meanwhile. "No, Harley," I rejected as softly as I could. "Didn't you want to cook me something? I'm still hungry."

"That's right!" he exclaimed, sitting back up in excitement. "What do you want?"

I rubbed the back of my head, surprised how he accepted my change of plans. "Um, I don't know," I admitted in puzzlement. "Do you even have any ingredients that aren't, like, stale?"

"Ye_ee_s, I do," he insisted, crawling off me and hurriedly straightening out his clothing. "Now, how about some pasta and garlic bread?"

I shrugged, still lying on the bed. "Sounds good to me," I answered, closing my eyes.

"Good," he said. "I'll go start that for my darling little Maximus." He leaned down once more, holding the back of my head and forcing me into a very deep and long kiss, much different than usual. When he broke apart he smiled, then walked off into the hallway.

I let out a yawn, placing a hand on my forehead and turning onto my side on the bed. It was so comfy, much softer than the beds at the hotels and firmer than the one on the ship. And, even though the curtains were pulled back, it was dark in the room, and I realized that it was reasonably late in the day.

I opened my eyes and sat up, rubbing the back of my head and getting off the bed. Curiously, I walked down the hall, exploring the two rooms we haven't gone into before. The first room, the one all purple and blue, looked basically untouched, seeming like such an ornament, as it actually did not have a bed, but had everything _else: _a dresser, an armchair, a table. I looked inside the dresser, but found it to be empty, and I realized that all the woven material covering the wooden furniture reminded me of some European tearoom. I sincerely wondered if Harley ever even stepped foot in this room.

I wasn't sure if I was snooping or not, but I did feel like I was searching for something. I just wasn't sure what. So, I went into the other room, which was definitely unfinished as far as decorating went. Everything was scattered, not matching and very unorganized. This room had a bed, but there were a few unpacked boxes on top, and along the left side of the room there were various beach equipment, including an umbrella, lawn chair and bundles of towels.

Bored, I went back into Harley's room, removing my shoes and placing them where I had put my backpack. Even though Harley had more than invited me into his house, I supposed he very much wanted me to make myself at home, I still felt so strange here, such an obvious guest. And, yet, I was definitely not an average guest: I would be sleeping in the same bed as Harley, having meals cooked for me, and of course, I'd end up getting pampered by him, more than usual.

As I walked by the man's chifferobe, I couldn't help but take a peek inside it, curious as to what kind of clothing Harley had aside from his usual outfit. Inside, hung properly along the top rack, I saw that Harley had various pants and shirts and jackets. It didn't seem as though he wore any of this stuff, especially some of the fancier looking attire. At the very end of the lining of clothes, I noticed an outfit more vibrant than the others, red and black. I pulled back the other clothing, and I realized exactly what it was: May's outfit. Or, really, _his _May outfit.

For a long while, I just stared at it, almost afraid to touch it as if it would just tatter to bits at the touch of my fingers. It looked just like hers. In fact, it resembled the one I knew was hanging in her closet back home. It hung from the hanger almost the same way, the bandanna tied to the top and everything. Slowly, I let the tip of my fingers trace across the fabric. The top was soft as always, and the shorts felt just as elastic and clingy as they looked when May wore them.

Distantly, as I continued to let my fingers touch the outfit, I smelt something from downstairs, either pasta or garlic or sauce or something like that. I couldn't say I cared too much though. Because as I stared at this outfit, one I hadn't seen in years, I was so convinced that it wasn't Harley's copy, but the real thing. I was so convinced, really, that I felt completely justified to take it off the rack and press it against my face, searching for the smell that lingered on all of May's clothing. But, I couldn't see it. All I could smell was the pasta or whatever from downstairs.

I sighed, shoving it back in the chifferobe and slamming the two doors shut. I suddenly felt angry. Why on earth did Harley still have that? And have it in his closet, too! Harley could be pretty twisted, and somehow, I didn't doubt the possibility of him just prancing around the house alone wearing it. How was it I had just admitted I was in love with him this morning? Yet, I closed my eyes, imagining when he said it to me first—the sincerity in his words, the look on his face, the way he kissed me after—and no matter _what _I just couldn't get angry at _him _right now. I wanted him to say it again to me, over and over, because it sounded so nice.

I decided it was time to go downstairs now, so I left Harley's bedroom, walking down the staircase and into the living room. Harley had his back to me, busy going back and forth stirring two pots on the stove. There was a loaf of bread over a cutting board, along with various spices scattered on the counter, and I concluded Harley was making the garlic bread from scratch.

I walked over to the breakfast counter, pulling back one of the stools and sitting down. The man turned around, hearing me, and smiled widely. I now noticed he was wearing a black apron, acting as if what we was cooking was a big deal. I couldn't help but laugh, and Harley made sure to glare back at me for it. As he turned back around, he opened the oven, checking on the bread and then closing it back up. I noticed a bowl of something else on the right side of the counter, looking like vanilla cake mix or something. Most of it was already scooped out though, so I guessed that whatever it was, he had already put it in the oven.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing at the bowl.

"Dessert," he replied, grinning.

"Like what?"

"You'll see," he simply said, putting on some oven mits. He removed one of the pots from the stove and began pouring out the pasta shells into a strainer over the sink, letting all the water go down the drain.

I thought this whole scene was pretty amusing: Harley cooking, baking, working, _being busy_ and enjoying every second of it as he prepared a meal for me. While he waited for the pasta shells to cool off, he turned down the stove for the sauce that was still heating up, and then went to the refrigerator and took out a pitcher of what looked like iced tea. He poured two glasses and set one in front of me.

"Do you cook like this even when you're alone?"

"No," the man answered. "Why the fuck would I do that for?"

I shrugged. "So, what do you do when you're all alone?"

"Darling, I'm never quite _alone,_" he told me. "And, even when I am I don't really care all that much."

"Are you going to cook for me everyday while I'm here?" I then wondered.

"So what if I am?" he countered, grinning. "You don't want to be pampered?"

"I never thought Housewife Harley existed, that's all," I told him, drinking some of the iced tea afterwards.

"I'm no housewife," he argued. "Do you see me in a dress?"

I was curious as to how Harley would react if I made a remark about his May costume being upstairs, but I knew, in the back of my head, that I probably shouldn't, so I repressed the urge. I thought a while more about the outfit, how I couldn't smell anything (and even if I could, it wouldn't have smelt like her) and just how _weird _it was that Harley still had it. I mean, it was just odd. He had admitted to possibly still owning it, but seeing it in his closet was bizarre. Too bizarre.

After just sitting there in silence for a good ten or so minutes, it seemed the meal was finally done. Harley set out two bowls—which looked very fancy and too delicate to have food placed inside them—and filled both with a fine amount of pasta, which had already been mixed in the tan-colored sauce. He set two slices of the garlic bread on each, presenting one of the bowls to me and placing the other in front of the stool next to me. After giving me silverware and a napkin, he took off his apron and sat down next to me. I realized in even more amusement than before that Harley was indeed playing a housewife here, no matter how badly he wanted to deny it.

Whatever was for dessert was still in the oven cooking, so I buried my curiousity and picked up one of the slices of garlic bread, taking a big bite of it. It tasted fantastic, better than any other kind of garlic bread I had ever had. I acknowledged my acceptance of the food, smiling as I turned to Harley, who was eating the pasta.

"This is _delicious_!" I told him. "I've never had garlic bread made from scratch. At least, I don't think I have."

"I'm glad Maximus approves," he chirped brightly, grinning. He leaned over, kissing me square on the mouth and going through with sucking on my bottom lip like had done a few times before. "Now, let's eat before the food gets cold."

I tried the pasta next, and it was just as delicious as the bread—if not, than definitely more. Remembering what May had told me she said to Harley about his cookies, I then said, "The pasta isn't half bad either."

Harley sort of froze, but it took only a moment for him to realize my statement was very intentional. He turned to me, glaring all the meanwhile, but in a much more sincere way than I had seen before. "I should kick you out of here for that, you little ragamuffin," he sneered, rolling his eyes.

"You know I'm just kidding," I laughed, taking another bite of the pasta. "I think it's incredibly good," I assured.

"You better," he grunted, not facing me anymore.

I began smelling something from the oven, and it definitely smelt like cake. I was already getting full from the dinner, but the aroma of the dessert was intriguing me immensely, and I knew I would have room left for whatever it was he was baking. When I finally finished my meal—and I did make sure to eat every last bite so Harley would have no reason to complain—I wiped my mouth and took a final sip of my iced tea.

"You're a really good cook, Harley," I acknowledged. "I don't even know how to make toast."

"Oh_hh,_ that might call for a cooking lesson," Harley stated, finishing up the last of his garlic bread. "A boy your age should know how to cook _one meal _at least!"

I shrugged just as some kind of buzzer went off. Harley got up from his seat, traveling around the counter and putting on his oven mits again. He opened the oven, taking out a large metal tray, which I realized was for cupcakes. Inside each hole were paper liners and the nicely cooked cupcakes, yellow and just a tad bit painted with a brown burn on them. He gave a proud smile, placing the tray on the stove and removing his mits.

"Cupcakes," I said as I took a whiff of the appetizing scent. "Or muffins."

Harley walked over to the far cabinet, taking out a small container. "Cupcakes," he assured me, gesturing to the words _Vanilla Frosting_ on the container. The frosting appeared to be light pink. "You _do _like cupcakes, correct?"

"Who doesn't?" I asked, smiling.

As Harley waited for the cupcakes to cool off, he gathered up the dishes, washing them off in the sink and placing them all in the dishwasher. I felt obligated to help, but also felt like if I did, I would get in the way. So, I just watched, still amused by the sight of him busy in a kitchen. He washed his hands after he was done cleaning up, then went to open the container of frosting. Dipping a single finger into the frosting, he licked the sweetened stuff off, and then, a moment later, did it again, but instead, wagged his finger in front of me, offering it to me.

It was different—way different—but for some reason, the situation reminded me of when he tried to get me to lick my own release off of his hand. I had told him that was gross and I didn't want to do it, but then a week or so later, I had ended up taking him in my mouth, swallowing _his _release. I blushed in a painfully obvious way, but, trying to avoid Harley seeing it, tilted my head, licking the frosting off his finger. He smirked and ran his clean hand through my hair. And, I thought for a moment he was going to tell me he loved me again, but instead, he turned around, grabbing two spatulas from a drawer and setting one in front of me.

"Help me with this, darling," he insisted, bringing the metal tray over to the breakfast counter and then sitting back down on the stool next to me. He dipped his spatula into the frosting and began spreading it over one of the cupcakes, making sure to cover all of the exposed cake part.

I picked up the other spatula and copied him, although mine seemed to come out all goopy and weird. I moved on to the one regardless, repeating the sequence of covering the entire cake part. I completed six, same as Harley, and then licked the spatula clean. There was hardly any frosting left in the container, but Harley went through with scooping out as much as he could onto the spatula.

Just as I thought he was going to lick all the frosting off himself, he leaned forward, dabbing a speck right onto the bottom of my nose. I jumped at the feeling of the sticky covering, and I was ready to wipe it off, but Harley grabbed my wrist, stopping me. Close to my face, all Harley had to do was lean an inch or two forward, then he licked off the frosting himself. His tongue felt weird on the tip of my nose, especially after the frosting was gone and he kept licking me.

However, I had to admit, as he traveled down and began kissing me fervently on the mouth, I was becoming aroused. I felt such a heated temperature radiating from his body, and even though I was kissing back as passionately as I could, I wanted more. Our tongues tangled and touched, and I moved closer, desperate to be in his embrace. I could taste the garlic on his mouth, and I could feel a bit of frosting on his hands as he wrapped his arms around my shoulders. Somehow, the man managed to drag me onto the stool with him, straddling his lap. Beneath me, I could feel he was aroused, too, and just when I was about to allow my hands to travel down his body, he pulled apart and had a goofy grin on his face.

"Let's try one," he said, suddenly grabbing one of the cupcakes and handing it to me. He took one for himself, unwrapping the liner and sinking his teeth into the cake. "_Mmm,_ now these are good, if I do say so myself."

I unwrapped mine and took a bite, too. It _was_ very good. The sweetened pink frosting tasted nice with the cake, and it didn't take long for me to eat the entire thing. I licked my lips, getting rid of the excess frosting, then returned to looking right at Harley, who was still eating his cupcake slowly.

"Harley…" I said, wrapping my arms around his body, simply in the desire to feel him against me.

"What is it?" he asked, his mouth full.

"Thank you for the food," I told him, burying my face in his shoulder.

"You're welcome, darling." Harley kissed me again, giving our bodies a quick grind before picking me up and placing me on the ground.

He began placing the cupcakes on a plate, then putting a glass cover over them. After he put away the metal tray and everything else, he stretched tiredly, putting his hands on his hips and looking at me fondly. I wasn't sure why Harley was leaving me hanging like this, especially since it was incredibly obvious I was just as aroused as him. I did not have the courage to try and entice the situation further, so I wandered over to the glass door, staring out the back and watching the waves fall over the sand again. I wasn't sure what time it was, but the sky's dark reflection in the ocean made it seem painfully late. I wondered if the morning would look unusually bright tomorrow.

I didn't really know what the two of us were going to do tomorrow. I doubted Harley wanted to go anywhere in town, as he probably would insist there was nothing worth doing in Slateport. We'd probably end up staying here all day, which I certainly did not want to do. It would get boring way too fast, but I could swim, if I wanted. That, of course, would interest Harley, but I hadn't swam in front of him since we were in Goldenrod City, and I feared his constant staring would humiliate me all over again.

I thought about when Ash and the rest of us had gone to Slateport City and May had entered her first Contest. It was literally _years _ago, but I still recalled everything so well. That was before May and Harley had met, but I couldn't help wondering if the man had been in town around that time.

I suddenly remembered the fact I needed to mail my letter to May. I wasn't even sure what island May was on, so I decided it would be best to just send the letter home. I knew my parents would be sure to get it to her.

"I need to mail my letter to May," I voiced. I walked back upstairs, grabbing the letter from my backpack and quickly writing out the address. After I was done, I went back downstairs, quickly telling Harley I was going to put it in his mailbox. I was a bit worried Harley might sneak out in the middle of the night, snatching the letter out so she would never get it, but I decided to think better of the man.

When I came back inside, I saw Harley was folding up his apron, putting it away in a drawer. He swayed his way over to me as I closed the door, picking me up in the familiar—and yet never-ending—embarrassing way. He held me close, and I realized that there was still a gleam in his eye, a lust in which he was determined to carry out. This realization made me quite happy. I thought that because of before, when he had scooted me off his lap, he might not have wanted me, but I figured maybe he was just narcotic enough to want to clean up first.

He was quick to capture my mouth and begin running a single hand down my body. I could feel him already hard against my stomach, and this instantly caused my own arousal to return. Harley held me so easily, not the least bit of struggle or discomfort in his muscles. His strong grip didn't even flinch as he began walking up the stairs, me still in his arms. It didn't take long to get into the room, where he began tearing off my shirt, locking me in such a passionate kiss, one that stole my concentration and distracted me from realizing he already had me pinned to the bed.

I reached out, removing Harley's shirt and following through with unbuckling his belt. Our arms tangled as Harley took off my shorts and underwear while I slid down his pants. It wasn't long before Harley had me in a tight embrace, fusing our mouths and chests and taking hold of my length and fondling it in his palm. As I lolled my head back, able to peer over his shoulder, my eyes landed on the chifferobe. It seemed as though I could stare through the wooden doors and _see _May's outfit inside. Distantly, I heard Harley calling my name, urging my hand down to his own hardness, but my concentration remained on the thoughts of May's red, white and black biker outfit: the elastic material, the soft sleeves, the stretchy look that could be created with a single pull.

I began moving my hand, touching Harley as best I could as I tried to think about the last time I had seen May in that outfit. She had acquired new trademark gear before leaving for Johto, one I couldn't even remember, but knew I didn't like better than her old apparel. Her red suit had been so recognizable, so _her. _Sometimes she would take off her jacket, revealing the white shirt beneath, the one that hung longer, almost like a skirt. Her jacket would feel really weird when it was wet, all hard and stiff. But, when it was on her, it was smooth, revealing all of May's curves and—

—and suddenly, Harley's mouth was on mine, startling me instantly. I snapped out of my thoughts, realizing I hadn't been paying much attention to Harley or the situation we were in at the moment. I responded well to the kiss, desperate to make up for my distraction. How on earth had thoughts of May won over _this _with Harley? I even realized that Harley already wrapped his arms around my thighs, lifting my legs. As our tongues met and entangled messily, I allowed my body to rise, rubbing against the man's hips and thighs. He moaned into my mouth with pleasure, and I kept going, grinding our lengths together to please him as best I could.

Soon, Harley began running his hands through my hair, holding up my head so we wouldn't lose contact. The man, so much older and bigger than I, seemed to always tower over me, whether we were standing, lying down or sitting. So, how was it he had been able to pull off May's outfit so well? It hadn't been the same, and even though I only had a few, select memories of how he looked in her clothing, I knew it hadn't been anything terrible, despite some ignorant claims before. Harley had none of my sister's girlish, womanly curves, but the outfit had hugged his body in a pleasant way, not looking too abnormal.

I found myself trying to envision him in it again, trying to understand how he could pull it off when it wasn't even an outfit designed for a man. I was fascinated, very fascinated, and the harder I tried to picture him in it the better I managed to achieve some sort of blurred idea. But, instead of flashing back to the time he had worn it at the Kanto Grand Festival, I could only envision him dressed in it here and now, looming over my body, pressing against me with his mouth on mine. And, I wasn't the least bit disturbed by the thought. I was intrigued. I suddenly responded more to his touches, frantic to have him not only touch me more, but be inside me.

My legs writhed around, trying to get him to pay attention to what I wanted. The man broke apart our kiss, soon adjusting and preparing himself properly before beginning to press the tip of his hardness into my body. I didn't even care about the pain it might cause, thinking back to just last night when he had hurt me in the lack of preparation. I knew it would pass, so I squirmed, pressing him into me at a rough speed. I ignored the burn, only wanting to feel the pleasure that I knew was coming.

"Max—_ahh_—are you all right, my sweet?" he wondered, soothing me gently.

"Yes, yes," I assured, tugging him closer to me, our chests aligned. "Harley, you feel amazing."

The man laughed lowly, curious as to why I was being so responsive. "You're just a desperate little tart, aren't you, darling?" he teased, pushing into me slowly.

I squirmed continuously, wanting so badly to feel him moving inside me. I gave a moan as a reply, forcing him to pull a bit out of me before I rose my hips again, penetrating me all over again. Harley got the point now, beginning to thrust wildly into my body, urging my legs around his waist and my arms over his shoulders. I held him as tightly as I could, my eyes still set on the chifferobe, seemingly so far away but its contents so up-front and distinctive in my head. I forced my eyes shut now, trying my best to concentrate on Harley's movements, his thrusts, his ministrations.

But, it wasn't working. The only thing stirring my lust and strengthening my responses was the overpowering image of what May's outfit looked like on the man on top of me. I could recall the way he flaunted it in front of May, the way he teased the crowd before him as he gave his Appeal, and most especially, how he very stylishly made sure his hair fell in the same way May's did. I suddenly could remember so much more about his antics at the Grand Festival, and as the man continued to thrust in and out me, causing me to pant and whisper his name, I filled with a savage desperation to have this man as close to me as possible. I could feel some sort of possessive vibe flow through me, the same way I imagined his greed _for me _worked.

_May._

_My sister._

_Her outfit._

My thoughts were racing, jumping back and forth between my sister's clothing and then Harley dressed in them. I couldn't keep my mind still. I couldn't get myself to concentrate on just regular Harley. But it didn't matter. I felt my body tightening, I felt my muscle's strain. And, with a final drive of Harley's hips, thrusting deep into my body, I came, shouting Harley's name but only thinking of him standing on that stage, dressed so perfectly in my sister's attire.

I fell back, feeling the man climax inside me a moment later, moaning out my name just as I had his. I breathed and breathed and breathed, so worn-out and shocked my own crazy desire sending me into an unexpected thrill of thoughts and actions. Embarrassed by my personal thoughts, I simply clung to Harley, pulling him close and breathing into his shoulder.

"Harley," I whispered, keeping him close, "I do love you."

The man chuckled, kissing the side of my head. "Oh, I know that, darling. You have an utterly fascinating way of showing it to me, but I like it anyhow." He removed himself from inside me, but still remained lying on top of my body. He then added, "And, I most certainly adore you. And, _love you_, even, which you know, too."

"Yes, Harley," I answered. "And, I really like when you say it. It makes me feel good."

"Oh, well, now that I know that, I don't think I'm ever going to stop," he teased. "I'd say it to you all night if I weren't so goddamn tired." He rolled onto his side, quickly cleaning both our bodies up with a swab of a tissue he had grabbed.

Something in me wanted to explain to Harley what thoughts were racing through my head before I had climaxed, but I didn't have the strength, nor will, to explain. Because, really, what would he have thought? He would've definitely assumed I was a complete weirdo, living up to his question about wanting to sleep with my sister. Did my thoughts mean I wanted to though? Or, was I just simply amused by the thought of Harley dressed up as her? Was it her or him _as her_ that intrigued me? I couldn't decide. I couldn't even get myself to mull over _that. _It was not normal, that was for sure.

**End of Part Ten**


	11. Part Eleven

**Part Eleven**

_-Harley-_

The ocean breeze was strong and fierce, not the least bit revealing of any sort of tiredness like the type I felt. I closed my eyes for a moment, seeing if maybe I could manage a minute or two of sleep, but the sun was burning too bright, and I felt it beating against my eyelids and face, making me unable to get comfortable. I readjusted myself, crossing my legs and sucking in some fumes from the cigarette trapped between my index and middle finger. After inhaling some, I blew the rest out into the air, watching as the dusty gray smoke flew through the wind, disappearing instantly.

I had been sitting on the bench on my backyard porch, staring out at the ocean and the rising sun for the past half-hour. I had only woken up a few minutes before deciding to come outside, and unfortunately, had left my darling Maximus all alone upstairs. Of course, he was sleeping his life away, but I still missed the little tart, especially after his amazing cooperation last night, whatever had spurred that. I couldn't complain, as I had myself one amazing orgasm, but I was curious as to why he had suddenly seemed so set on being fucked in the ass in a very rough and not-so-romantic way.

What a little whore that boy could be, too! He was easily getting his share of shags a day, and yet I was sure if I hadn't left to take a bath this morning, he would've been insistent on being fucked again. I would've been more than happy to oblige to that desire, but I felt so disgusting after being on that cruise for two days without even a shower. I'd be sure to makeup for my disappearance later though, giving the boy a good, hard shag, even better than last night's.

Admittedly, I had a crazy intent to fuck that boy on every square inch of my house: against the walls, on the floor, on every piece of furniture, in every goddamn room. Was it obsessive? Oh, yes, most definitely. But, with a child that faunlet-y and that willing to do some rather outlandish stuff, how could I not want to? My Maximus was such a little provoking tart, one that simply existed to be ravished in a way only _I _could offer. It was odd, because even though I made fun of Max for claiming he couldn't imagine himself with anyone else, I had to admit, I believed him now. Because, he was indeed _mine, _and why the bloody hell should anyone else have the absolute pleasure of fucking him?

As if on cue—like always!—I heard the sliding glass door open, and out came my darling, stepping one foot at a time onto the wooden porch and closing the door afterward. He was adorably wrapped up in the thinnest sheet from my bed, all bundled and obviously naked underneath. And, goodness, he was not even wearing his glasses, making him appear so blank and lost. He smiled when he spotted me sitting on the bench, breathing in some tobacco from the near-gone cigarette. He walked over, sitting next to me and continuing to beam.

"Good morning," he said brightly, leaning up against me in a lazy embrace.

I snaked an arm around his body, pulling myself closer and kissing the top of his head. "Good morning, Maximus," I greeted, running my hand up and down his arm.

Max tightened the blanket around his body, sitting with his knees up against his chest. He looked so goddamn cute. I just wanted to attack him. The boy took a moment, however, to stare out at the ocean, taking notice of how the sun displayed a long orange and yellow line straight down the middle of the water. He sighed in a sentimental way, pressing the side of his face against my upper-arm and pushing into my embrace. He took notice of my wet hair suddenly, running his hands through the damp strains and cocking his head.

"You took a bath," he concluded, then turning his face so he could smell me.

"A shower, actually," I replied. I inhaled the remaining fumes of my cigarette before flicking down the last of the ashes and throwing the stick far, over the porch's railing and onto the sand. I then loosely scooped up the boy, leading him over to my side and straight onto my lap. I arranged him perfectly so he straddled me right in the center of my thighs, then pulled him close, kissing his head continuously. "Lo_oove _you," I teased, singing it in a chirp.

Max ended up chuckling, turning his head and kissing me on the chin. "You know what I think the two of us should do?"

"Fuck on the beach?" I wondered innocently.

"_No,_" the boy stated firmly. "Battle."

"Oh, pish-posh, Max," I spewed in a huff. "Where's the fun in that?"

"Come on, Harley," the boy continued, writhing in my lap a little bit and then turning his body so he was facing me.

"Maybe later," I said, grinning. I put a hand against his chest, trailing it down his body and squirming it between the small opening of the sheets that Max so tightly held. I let my hand wander down, touching between his thighs teasingly. "Why do you entice me so, Max? Coming out here in only a little linen sheet."

"I wasn't sure where you were," he told me. "I was in a hurry."

I put both my hands on his hips, urging him close. "Really, huh?" I mused. "You don't even have on any undies, you little tart."

Max rolled his eyes, but kissed me again on the chin, so clingy and attentive this morning that I was so fucking ready to pin him onto the porch and have my way with him again and again. The way his small chest felt, breathing against mine, oh, it was wonderful. And, with his arms swung around me now, allowing me to cradle him, I couldn't help wanting to screw him. I did, after all, need to makeup for leaving him this morning.

"Harley," he said, his tone in serious mode, "I have to ask you something."

I blinked, not liking this confrontation. "What?" I wondered rudely.

"Uhh, well, yesterday when you were making dinner," he started, not eyeing me at all, "I looked in your closet."

"My closet?" I echoed. "Oh, are you wondering about that fur scarf?"

"Fur scarf?" he then repeated. "No, no, it's not about that! It's about, well, um… I saw that you had your little mock-costume of May in there."

My expression flattened, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes in amusement. "Max," I called out, tilting my head, "you have no reason to be mad about that. I hung it up there because I didn't want to see it stuffed away in some box, eventually tattered by mothballs. I'll have you know I spent hours on that fucking thing."

Max looked at me for a while, then sighed. "It's not that I'm mad," he admitted softly. "It's just, well, don't you think it's a bit weird you keep it hung in your closet?"

"I _just told you,_ darling, I don't want it ruined," I persisted in another sigh. "It's like a collector's item."

"So, you don't, like, walk around in it?"

I began laughing. "No, Max," I assured, "I don't. But, you know, you could try it on, if you wanted."

Redness swept across the boy's face. His eyes narrowed even more and he gaped several times in an attempt to say something to me. But, this certainly was not how I expected him to react. I thought for sure my comment would make him furious, and I saw ahead of time him demanding why I would ask such a thing and then following through with calling me a "weirdo," or something. But, nope! Instead, he just stayed silent, and then it hit me. _Is that _what he wanted? Was little Maximus curious about the wonders of cross-dressing?

The idea brought me to laughter. I threw my head back, chuckling and snickering and giggling just at the idea. "Maximus," I began amusedly, "if you want to hop into the world of May for a day, I have to warn you, that material is not very comfortable."

Max looked back up to me, but continued to say nothing. The embarrassed blush was still printed on his face, and I could feel how uncomfortable he was getting with the conversation, just by my grip on his hips and the stiffness I felt in his body. I quickly concluded that this whole modeling thing wasn't it. I searched for the answer, mulling over various possibilities, and then, oh, boy, it struck me hard. _Very hard._ Maximus wanted _me _to try it on. Oh, my, did he want a refresher of how I looked in it, and how well I pulled the damn thing off?

I began snickering, and even through my laughter, I managed to get out, "Oh, you little dirty boy—you want _me _to wear it, don't you?"

Even though I didn't think the redness in his face could get any deeper, it did. A lot deeper. "Harley, you don't think that's weird, do you?" he asked in a humiliated way. "I mean, it's just May's outfit."

"Max, I wore the thing—I'm not going to criticize you for wanting to see me in it," I explained with a grin. "You just want a little reminder on what she looked like, huh?"

Narrowing his eyes again, the boy said, "Yeah." But, oh, he was lying. I could tell there was something more.

"Okay, Max, I'll be happy to do it for you," I agreed. "_But, _you have to do something for me."

"Like _what_?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

"You have to play on the beach with me for a bit," I told him matter-of-factly. "And swim. I want to see you swim, you little faunlet."

"You've seen me swim," he stated. "You didn't keep your eyes off me, and it was pretty creepy!"

"Oh, _pfft,_ that was before I had the knowledge of what your body could do," I said, waving a hand in dismissal. "I'm not asking you to skinny-dip, Max. Although, now that I think about it—"

"No," he grunted, his eyes widening. "We can play on the beach, but I won't do that."

"Why not?" I asked, mock-pouting. "You'd look so sweet."

"_Because,_" he explained, "that would be weird, and I'd feel like an utter moron!"

I shrugged. "Well, then, go ahead and grab that bathing suit of yours," I insisted, putting my hands behind my head in relaxation. "I'll be waiting right here."

"What about you?" the boy asked, cocking his head as he got off my lap, much to my dismay.

"Get me a towel," I simply requested. "I don't want to swim."

"So, you're just going to watch me? Again?"

"Well, do you want me to model in your sister's little attire, or not?" I questioned, folding my arms.

"Well, it's not _that _important."

"I think it is to you—you just don't want to admit it."

"I'd live," he assured me, but then scampered off into the house, going to fetch those tight swimming trunks and a towel for _moi._

Maybe I was overreacting, but I had a strong gut feeling that little Maximus here was wanting me to model the May outfit for some selfish little reason. Either he wanted me to put it on so he could stare in disgust at how fucking "weird" I was and how I was insulting his sister's existence… or, _maaaaybe_, he was just trying to get an image in his head of what his sister was supposed to look like. He hadn't, after all, seen his sibling in months, and it might've been, to him, a nice reminder. But, what if it was more? He could've very well just gone nuts with anger over me keeping the attire in my closet, but instead he wanted me to model it. It did bother me that it happened to be his goddamn sister's outfit he wanted me to model, but was that really mattering to him? Maximus could've just realized cross-dressing stirred a certain thrill in him.

I grinned in delight. I couldn't wait to see what his reaction would be once I put it on. I had every intention of acting like some rundown trollop, really flaunting the clothing. He might've gotten pissed, sure, but that wasn't even half the fun. I really wanted him to see how in-character I could get as one of the lasses. It was always fun, I had to admit.

I kicked off my shoes and socks, walking down the porch stairs and onto the beach sand. I felt myself sink down, sand trapped between my toes and falling over my entire feet. I discarded my jacket, throwing it back onto the porch and walking out to the middle of the beach. Thankfully, my house was pretty far apart from the two surrounding me, so if, for some spontaneous reason, Max and I decided to shag like crazy on the beach, I was positive no one would see us. And, if they did, who the fuck cared, because they should be so lucky to witness how blessed I was having Max all to myself.

"Here's your towel!" I heard Max shout, walking down onto the beach just as I turned around to look.

I caught the towel he _so rudely _threw at me, spreading it out onto the sand and collapsing on it tiredly. Max had taken a towel as well, wrapping himself in it sort of like he had with the linen sheet. As payback for throwing the towel at me, I tore his off, exposing him in his cute little bathing suit, which made me giddy just to see him sporting. Oh, I just _loooved_ how it looked on him. Not nearly as tight as the underwear, but decently close. I grinned wickedly at him, patting the empty space beside me, urging him to sit.

Max rolled his eyes, blushing all the meanwhile, and sat down in a _plop_. He stretched—which, I swore he did to tease me because his little bare chest jutted out and made him look so adorable—and fell backwards, staring up at the sun. I lied back, too, scooting close to him and wrapping a single arm around his body. Oh, he was just a divine little soul, so meant to be in my arms.

"So, why is it you don't want to shag on the beach, Max?" I questioned, stroking his legs.

"Because I don't know where the sand will end up, Harley," he stated angrily. "And, no, don't even try and say we can do it on the towel, because I still won't agree."

"Then, maybe I'll just have to do it without your consent, huh?"

"That's not funny," the boy grunted, turning away from me.

"Oh, fine, you're no fun," I complained, sitting up and urging him to do the same. "Go swim, you little urchin."

Max stood up, and like the impish little tart he was, ran out, throwing himself into the water and going under, through the waves and popping out a moment later, all wet and adorable. I smiled happily, reaching into my pocket and grabbing another cigarette from the tucked away box. As I lit it, still keeping my eyes locked on the boy, I thought about some of the other forgettable men and boys I had here, all of which were just one-night stands. I couldn't remember anything specific about any of them, but it was quite often that my companions would insist on coming out and checking out the ocean. I had only managed to get a few to agree to a shag on the beach, and honestly, now that I thought about it, comparing it to Max's disinterest in the act, I had to wonder _why _it was such a turn-off for people. Who cared if sand winded up in your ass? My cock was going up there anyway, what else really mattered?

At times, I knew it seemed as though I were some slutty whore. Max had told me I was—oh, how had that boy put it? _sleazy_?—and Christ, that still enraged me, because it just wasn't true. I liked a good fuck, and it just so happened that no one kept my attention long enough to want to stay in a committed—of the sort—relationship. What I had with Max was something I couldn't really label. I had grown to fucking _love him_, but what the hell were we? He was just my little faunlet, and I, his older male lover. I couldn't stand the plural of that word—_lovers_—because it was so goddamn lame and stupid that I wanted to puke.

Max, all tuckered out, I supposed, eventually made his way out of the ocean, dripping wet and waddling over to me. He sat, sighing heavily and lied down, putting an arm over his eyes. Just to tease him, I decided to sit over him, straddling his lap like he always did mine, and press my crotch against his. He was all soggy, which of course made my attire soggy, too, but I didn't care. He was just so desirable not to do this.

"Have fun?" I asked, sweeping an open palm over his chest and stomach. "Because it sure looked like it." I trapped my cigarette between my lips, using my other hand to stroke his wet hair.

"Yeah, it was fun," he said. "But now I stink of sea water."

"You smell fine to me," I noted, inhaling some smoke. I let the hand massaging his chest slide down further, beneath his swimming shorts. The boy instantly jumped, feeling my hand very quickly exploring underneath, taking hold of his limp cock and teasing it wickedly.

"Harley!" he grunted, grabbing my wrist to stop me from making him hard. "_Stop._"

"Oh, please, Max," I sighed, rolling my eyes. I blew some smoke in his face to annoy him. "I swear, Max, you're sexually bipolar."

"It's just,"—he blushed heavily—"I'm afraid someone might see us."

I scoffed. "Oh, nobody here is going to care." I then gave a considerate look, eyeing the house to the far left. "Well, there is that itty bitty old lady over there, but I don't think she'd have the courage to ask me what I'm doing with you."

"What if she does?" he asked curiously.

"I'm your uncle, remember," I said, winking.

"That didn't work on Misty," Max stated.

"True, but not everyone is all _rooomantic_, now are they?" I asked through a smile. But, nonetheless, I got off the boy, sitting back on my boring side of the towel. I ran my fingers through my own hair, letting off a huff. "Max, remind me again why I put up with you?"

"Uhh," the boy stuttered, scratching his head, "something about being a faunlet."

"Oh, yes, right," I replied tiredly, shutting my eyes. "Max, it's getting too hot out here. Let's go back inside, and I'll see what I can do about little Maykins' outfit," I then said, getting up very slowly.

Max, still lying down, opened his eyes and pursed his lips. "Are you sure?" he wondered, cocking his head. "I don't want you to feel obligated."

"Well, you let me watch you swim in all your faunlet-y glory, so I ought to. Besides, I'm in the mood for dress-up. How about you go take a shower, and I'll have fun getting ready?" I suggested, extending an arm and helping the boy stand.

"Fine," he agreed, shaking off some excess water from his hair and picking up the towel.

He led the way back into the house while I gathered my jacket, shoes and socks from the porch and then followed. We both went upstairs, but Max turned to go into the bathroom as I wandered back into my room, opening my chifferobe and grinning like a maniac as I stared at the particular attire hung on a single hanger. Oh, it looked so fun just hanging them. I was quick to take it out, lying it on the bed and beginning to unbuckle my pants. I distantly wished it was Max's hands undoing my pants as I slid them off, switching into the May-clothing.

It fit me just the same, as I hadn't really changed a bit in the last couple of years. Of course, the shirt was rather flat on me, and I realized that I had no idea where I put that undershirt that I was able to stuff. I took off the white shirt, digging through my closet to search for it. It wasn't vital to the outfit, but it was pretty obvious that sister of Max's had herself quite the development for such a young age. Maybe something ran in their family, as I would assume one would be comfortable calling May a little nymphet, which she might have been, the way she jumped around quite a bit, the gross harlot. Maybe May wasn't a virgin after all, and only rejected Drew because she didn't want him to discover that. She was probably pretending to act like she respected herself too much to have a man invade her body or whatever girls were saying these days.

I hated thinking about it, but as far as I was concerned, I could see it being true. May was capable of rounding up some men with or without intention, and she had to be an utter moron not to know virginity was currency to some, myself included. I mean, I _loooved _the fact I had taken Max's virginity, so surely the situation had to present itself to May more than once and with others besides Drew.

_Ah-ha!_

I found the soft undershirt in the very back of the chifferobe. The stuffing was very politely extruded, not the least bit obnoxious and lame, and if assembled with the right clothing, it wouldn't even be obvious it was there. But, with the tight jacket May wore, the chest would form finely, appearing very real if someone did not know better. I thought I wore the disguise excellently, although I certainly was no drag queen, _that_ was for sure.

I threw the undershirt on, following through with putting back on the white shirt and then the jacket. I zipped it up, allowing the undershirt to shape, which I adjusted myself to appear smoother. I laughed beneath my breath, just imagining how this looked. I walked over to the small mirror on the wall, grabbing my brush and beginning to style my hair. I tied the red and white bandanna around my head, then combed out the strains so they evenly spread on both sides. I grinned at myself in the mirror, then opened my bureau to search for some makeup. I located it quickly, beginning to put some on, despite the fact May did not wear any. But, it made my features softer, more feminine.

It took me a good ten or so more minutes to get the outfit right: the way the fingerless gloves traced my hands, the way the black stockings stayed up, the way I kept the bandanna aligned. I was finally happy though, and I even thought it might've been better than the first time I wore it. I began practicing my character, winking like a moron at the mirror and swaying my hips in a more obnoxious way. I then turned, shaking my ass like I was peddling it on the street and blowing kisses in all directions. Satisfied, I placed my hands on my hips and mused over what I was going to do.

The more I continued thinking about swishing around and acting like a flirty whore, the more I wondered what Max would think about all this. Moreover, would he even be angry or would he be intrigued? Oh, _now _my mind was working. After all, I needed to makeup for not fucking him this morning, so why not make it a little more interesting by trying to see how he'd react to me seducing him in his sister's attire? Like the dirty sinner I knew I was, I walked out of the room, strutting as if I were on a catwalk and making my way down the hall, to the bathroom.

I heard the shower faucet no longer running, and it was obvious the boy was done. I didn't remember him taking any change of clothing into the bathroom, so he'd definitely have to walk out wrapped in a little towel. I leaned against the hallway wall, morphing into May's mannerisms as best I could, keeping an upright posture and tilting my head casually. Just as I finished my pose, the bathroom door swung open, and there, in the middle of the room, was my darling Maximus, all squeaky clean and keeping the towel wrapped around his shoulders. And, he stared at me, half-dismay, half-shock.

He opened his mouth, clearly wanting to say my name, but instead, he just gaped, blinking several times and running his eyes up and down my body. Something softened in him, and he slowly closed his mouth, a timid, polite—but very, very small—smile gracing his lips. Without his glasses, I wondered how much he could see, but the expression on his face made me think his vision was very able to take in every last inch of me.

I flashed my teeth in a grin, swaying towards him and leaning against the doorway. The boy's hair was matted down, all wet and humid, and I reached out, stroking my fingers through it and grazing his cheek. Max continued to stare, his eyes following me with every movement I made. I pulled his arm, forcing him out of the bathroom. He kept his other hand tightly gripped around the towel, ensuring it would not fall.

"Max," I sweetly called out, trying my best to sound as girlie as possible, "how was your shower?"

Max looked up at me, curious, and I fell onto my knees, smiling continuously, and now running both my hands through his hair. I leaned forward, kissing him gently and looping an arm around his waist. As we kissed, messy and fervent, I began tugging at his towel, trying to get him to let go. He was nervous though: he wasn't responding to my kiss and he surely was not wanting me to tear off the towel. But, I did, using all my strength and eventually succeeding at removing it from his body. It fell along his feet, and I pressed myself firmly against him, sucking at his bottom lip.

I heard him moan into my mouth, his breathing hitched and his hands beginning to fight the urge to touch me. I took his wrist, bringing his hand up and gently aligning it with the faux chest. He seemed more eager now, clutching his hand around the material and craning his neck to kiss me. I pressed into him, running my hand down his bare chest and eventually reaching between his legs. I was startled to find that he was already so hard, and yet, I hadn't even touched his cock. I instantly realized that this was the very first time I had ever seen the boy completely aroused before I had made him that way. I furrowed my brow, but the boy writhed, desperate and greedy for me to actually touch him now.

I pursed my lips, pressing my face into his shoulder and encircling my gloved hand around his hardness. I stroked him with my entire palm, lifting my knee up and gently rubbing between his thighs, causing him to gasp and moan and silently beg for me to fuse our mouths. So, I did: I pressed our mouths together, forcing my tongue in and almost violently tangling it with his own, clutching at his shoulders and thrusting his cock in my hand. My bare fingers teased his hardness, softly tracing him with ministrations that sent him into a haze of pleasure.

Then, suddenly, still so dumbfounded by his complete arousal, I decided I would play this game through as loyally as I could manage. In a soft, May-like voice, I whispered, "Oh, Max, I've missed you."

This caused the boy to stiffen. He looked at me, his eyelids half-closed in a mixture of lust and confusion, and I could sense he was trying to analyze my words. Perhaps he thought he had heard the voice wrong. So, to soothe him, I smiled, stroking his cock more slowly, teasing him. I then stood up, twirling around and then projecting my left hip out in a pose. My back to him, I made sure my ass shook with every little sway I made, one step at a time. I then turned back around, grabbing Max's arm and pulling him towards the room.

"Come on," I suggested, giving him a wink. "Come with me, _brother._"

Max, unnerved by the voice and the act, seemed to fall into it, or at least understand. He followed me, slowly, eventually making it to the room, where I was already sitting on the bed, legs crossed and both hands resting on my right knee, politely. I grinned, then patted the spot next to me on the bed. He stepped forward, continuing to walk until he was right in front of me. In a rush, I grabbed him, urging him forward to lean against me, so I could kiss him tenderly on the head. Max wrapped his small arms around me, and I felt his lips on my neck.

Dramatically, I fell back, lying impishly over the unmade bed and allowing the boy to crawl over me. The feeling of his body on mine was amazing as always, especially now that I began to see a new kind of determination sweeping through him. But, he wasn't taking off the attire. He was just feeling it, feeling me—no, it wasn't me, he was feeling _her—_and his small hands were so delicate and careful, stroking the seams, petting the material, patting down the folds. And, so, I—_May_—returned part of the ministrations, reaching up and running the properly gloved hands through his bangs, combing them out and carefully beginning to urge the boy over to the side. When he followed through, she moved over him, now on top, and lowered herself so her thin, softly painted lips could press against his chest.

"Max, I missed you," she told him again, stroking his hard cock as she wiggled her way out of her shorts. She threw them to the side, smiling at Max in her charming little way, then moving some hair behind her ear, preparing to make her next move.

Beneath her, Max writhed, rising his hips and pressing himself against her. She made a small moan of delight, thrusting her hand to get a similar response from Max. Her brother happily groaned, sliding his hand up the side of her body, cupping her left breast and then moving his palm against her shoulder blade.

"Oh, Max!" she chirped, throwing her head back, making her bangs wave about.

Max creased his brow, looking at the girl questionably as she straddled him, rubbing herself on his thigh and she stroked his warm, eager length. Excitedly, she bent down a little, mashing their lips together—a quick clang of teeth and a slither of tongues—and then thought, momentarily, how she was going to go about her next move. Should she allow him into her body, allow _him_ to penetrate her? Or, should she just continue on and touch him and have him touch her back with no penetration at all? She could use what was not necessarily hers and penetrate the boy, but would he get confused and startled? She wasn't sure, and for a long while, she felt lost.

She had never allowed him into her and had never even planned or thought about it. It had simply never crossed her mind, a deep imprint previously resting, saying that the situation would never come up. But, now it did, and she was utterly lost. And, worst of all, the boy beneath her was frustrated and in need of attention. She sighed heavily, deciding she should keep it real, keep it the way the boy was imagining things, and so she wet her hand, moistening her brother and then herself. Max, confused, instantly realized what was going on, and panic ran throughout his body.

"No, Max," May said to him, putting a hand over his mouth before he could speak. "It's okay, I promise."

He nodded, lolling his head back as she lowered herself onto him. Her brother's eyes then widened, realizing how different _this _was, completely foreign to what he was used to. Oh, but he was loving it, May could tell. Her brother moaned deeply, and she did, too, but much more lowly and playfully. She straddled him slowly before sinking all the way down and moving back up, already prepared to start thrusting. May's white shirt beneath her jacket properly covered her lower body, allowing her to reach beneath and attentively aid herself as she pushed on and off the boy.

Max reached up, gripping her hips, urgently wanting her to go faster. She speed up, allowing him to impale her body as she touched herself, beginning to feel exhaustion creep into her body and even her brother's, too. Max held her tight, thrusting up as she thrust down, wildly driving the younger boy far into her, until she called out, simultaneously climaxing with the boy. She felt his release fill her body, and she fell forward, pinning herself against the boy and breathing heavily.

"_May…" _her brother sadly whispered.

Her name had been called out, and she felt a shiver run down her body, some form of disappointment developing as she tried to catch her breath. Her brother ran his thin fingers through her hair, breathing in her scent and rubbing his cheek against the material of her bandanna. She closed her eyes.

Now, shaking away from the act and coming back to reality, I sat up, watching as Max breathed in and out, his eyes tightly shut and his face red from embarrassment. I pulled away from Max, letting his cock slip out of me as I wiped my release against the bottom of the pillowcase. I collapsed beside him, shutting my eyes for a moment, and thinking, very desperately, as to what to say to Maximus that would even make remotely any sense.

But, for some reason—a reason I couldn't even grasp—Max decided to break the silence. He rolled onto his stomach, throwing an arm around my stomach and pressing his face into the side of my body. "Harley," he softly said, "I love _you_."

And, there was that strong, overpowering emphasis on "you," meaning not his goddamn sister or anyone else, but _me: Harley._ When Max said the words, there was a deep, passionate meaning behind it, and it was the sort of crazed teenage love that he felt in his heart, I was sure. I smiled distantly, taking off the gloves and running my bare fingers through the boy's damp hair. Oh, yes, I loved the kid, but I realized now there was a distinct difference when he said it and when I did. It made me wonder what differences there were in our actual _feelings._

I couldn't help but continue smiling as I unzipped the jacket and removed both the white shirt and the undergarment beneath. I threw them both onto the floor, then turned to pay attention to my darling Maximus. I kissed him as I rested on my side, pressing my lips on his forehead, cheek and lips. I looked at him fondly, trying to get the message through to him that I wasn't angry. I mean, sure, it _should've _upset me that he hadn't been thinking of _me_ a moment ago, that it wasn't _I_ who had made him climax, but it had indeed been _me _who had provoked the whole incident. And, if nothing else, at least I knew now that Max was lying on some level when he said he didn't want his sister and that he had no kink. Quite obviously, he enjoyed this little scandalous affair.

"Harley, I love you," he then repeated, very frantic. He held me close as he said it, and, I honestly could sense how sincere he was being to me.

"Darling, calm down," I urged, patting his head. "Don't worry, Maximus. I love you, too."

"Really? Truly?" he wondered in a panic. "Harley, I'm sorry! I'm _so sorry._ Please, please don't be angry with me." And, suddenly, tears were welling up in his eyes and his lip quivered in an attempt to quiet down a cry.

I sat up, pulling the boy close to me. I couldn't help but smile awkwardly, both concerned and amused by Max's dramatic fright. He stifled a sob then clutched at me, pulling me closer and closer until we were fused so perfectly. I rubbed his back and shoulders, kissing his head and coaxing him back down his calm state of mind.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, Harley," he stated, his words mumbled as he continued to stay pressed against me. "I don't want her. I don't. I promise."

Was he actually telling the truth? He sounded far too alarmed and distressed for me to know. So, I simply nodded, telling him, "Max, it's _okay, _darling. I'm the one who insisted."

"I should've told you no," the boy went on, muffling his words all over again.

"Maximus," I firmly stated, breaking apart from him so he would look me straight in the eye, "I honestly am okay with it. In fact, I'm quite overjoyed by what we got to do."

Max did calm down a bit, but I still felt his heart _pounding_. "Why?" he asked.

"It's fun being another person and yet still being me," I told him. "Earlier I was thinking about how I simply do not want you ever to be with anyone else, and this was _sort of _like that, but it was still me. I think that's funny, don't you?"

Max looked totally unconvinced and even confused, too. He narrowed his eyes, sighing, and then said, "For a while I thought it _was _her."

"Oh? And, how did that make you feel?" I asked.

He shrugged. "It was confusing, Harley. I knew it was you, but for a few seconds here and there, I just couldn't understand any of it." He pursed his lips. "Then—_then—_you didn't do what you normally did, and it felt really odd."

"Well, Max," I explained, "I figured that if I was dressed up as a lass I ought to show you how fucking a lass would be like."

"That's how it'd feel?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

I shrugged, helpless on this part. "I guess, but I'd imagine it'd feel _a lot _different in terms of, well, uh, texture." I searched for a further description, then saying, "I've heard it's _wet _and slimy, and just, well, _ugh_!" I shivered in disgust.

Max blushed, and soon, I found myself a bit humiliated by my words, too. For the first time in front of Max, I was talking about something I literally had no clue about, and moreover, never wanted to know about. Still, I thought Max should've been proud of himself. The last time I had let someone _fuck me _had been years ago. I was fine with either way, and before I had developed my own taste and style for shagging, I hadn't had a preference for where I wanted to be, but _now_ I did. And, that, to me, made my versatility in allowing Maximus to penetrate me all the more meaningful. After all, I didn't have to, but honestly, I was glad I did. It felt different having a younger boy's cock in my ass, but it certainly felt amazing at the same time. My little Maximus was a delight.

"Harley, if you want, I'll do something to makeup for it," the boy then stated, despite me having said I wasn't angry.

I sighed heavily. Oh, this boy was impossible, now wasn't he? Of course, now was my opportunity for A). sex on the beach (and not the drink), B). having Max prance around in his undies with the umbrella, or C). coaxing him into beating each other silly. I giggled in delight, but couldn't get myself to suggest any of these. After all, it wasn't as though the boy had done something awful. We each had one amazing orgasm, so what was the problem here?

"Maximus, it's fine," I once again told him. "I had fun, and I know you did, too."

Max finally nodded. "Okay," he agreed, continuing to nod. He then brightened, smiling widely and suddenly pressing his mouth against mine, the little bipolar tart.

I responded fully, pushing against him just as hard as he was pushing against me. After we broke apart, I rubbed the boy's thighs, gently teasing him. "Now, I honestly cannot help but _need _to verbally note that even before I touched you, your cock was hard as hell."

Max blushed and said nothing.

I gave him a questionable raise of an eyebrow. "Now, there are two explanations here. You enjoyed seeing me in drag so much that you got hard even before my hands starting fondling you. _Or, _you just happened to be thinking naughty thoughts in the shower and were already semi-aroused in the first place."

"Uh, which one makes me seem less disgusting?" he asked, titling his head.

I laughed and just waved my hand in dismissal. "Okay, let's drop it," I insisted, pinning Max down on the bed and grazing his chin with my teeth for a moment or two. I felt him shiver and writhe worriedly beneath me before I rolled off him, holding the boy closer and assuring, "You and I have a bright future ahead of us, darling." I gave a smile through a long exhale.

"I hope so," he happily told me, "because at this point, it's really hard to imagine you _not _coming to the Johto League with me."

"Yes, it's hard to imagine who else I would fuck who is as great as you," I admitted with a shrug.

Max pushed his lip out, almost appearing to be pouting in an annoyed way. But, color swept across his face for a moment, and he stuttered, "Oh, um, that reminds me." He made a soft musing sound afterward, sucking in his lips and preparing himself for whatever it was he was going to say. "Last night I was thinking, and I was trying to decide what time was, um, you know, _the best._"

"The best fuck?" I clarified questionably. When I saw him nod with his eyes narrowed, I slapped my lips together, trying to think as well. "Ooh, now Max, you and I both know we've had some _good _times. But, really, what was such an immoral thought doing crossing your head?"

Max rolled his eyes. "Don't start," he warned playfully. "Anyway, I think, for me, Harley, it was when we ate that ice cream sundae." He blushed, but gave a reminiscent smile.

"Ooh, you little sitophiliac," I teased, grinning.

"No, Harley, it's not that," he argued. "It was just so, well, I don't know. Everything about my birthday was so unique, that included." He shrugged miserably, obviously humiliated.

To cheer him up, I decided to reveal my own favorite time, stating, "Hmm, I think I'm going to have to say just yesterday, onboard the ship."

"That's sort of romantic of you," he noted. "I mean, yesterday was when you first told me you loved me." He blushed—again!—at his own words.

I laughed. "Indeed, but I'm going to say the runner-up was when we _first _got on the ship, too. That was nice, too. But, how about we just try our bloody best to outdo all three of those, right here and now?" I sat up, smiling widely as I automatically locked Max into a powerful kiss.

"Mmph!" the boy mumbled, taken back. But, very agreeable, the boy swooped his arms around me, pulling me in quickly.

"I hope you don't mind a little biting this time," I whispered, flicking my tongue along his chin.

Max shut his eyes, leaning his head back and grinning happily. "Can I bite back?" he wondered, allowing my hand down his body.

"Don't act like you have to ask!" I shouted happily, gnawing lovingly at his chin. "Sink your teeth in hard, Max. Really hard." I pointed to my upper-arm, moving it in front of his mouth.

The boy looked at me considerably, sucking in his bottom lip and mulling over whether or not to do such a thing. He let his eyes meet mine as he leaned forward, opening his mouth just a bit before he pressed it against my skin. I felt his moist teeth grazing me before he loosely clamped them around a spot of skin, then, very suddenly, he pressed his jaw shut, trapping my skin in a tremendous tightness that pinched and burned and _thrilled. _I yelled out, grunting loudly as he continued to bite, and I decided to fondle him tightly with my free hand. His teeth's grip dropped, but I continued to touch him, feeling the stinging throb over and over on my arm.

Max leaned up, kissing me on the neck and rising his hips. I shrugged my shoulder up, wanting his mouth to align with it. The boy was hesitant, but I soon felt him bite me again, much harder this time, which caused me to gasp loudly. He did not stop though; he kept his mouth still, pressing continuously as he continued rubbing his hips against my body.

"Harley," he moaned, his teeth loosing their grip. Saliva painted me messily, and soon, the boy developed his nip into a soft, comforting kiss, sucking the skin on my shoulder.

I lifted the boy's legs, pushing my way in between and causing him to shiver dramatically. He moaned my name again, and I returned the sound with his own, moving him away from my shoulder and kissing him directly on his lips. I pressed my palm into his, closing my hand and tightly clutching to him, wanting to be close. Max swung his other arm around my neck, drifting me down alongside his small body.

xxxxx

_-Max-_

"You know, darling," Harley lectured, putting his hands behind his head and dragging his feet as he walked, "you just had you letter sent yesterday. I doubt your loving sister received it." He hadn't said anything in a while, but his tone was definitely on-edge.

Walking next to him, I nodded, and replied, "I know, but I don't feel like coming here everyday expecting her response, so I'm going to ask Nurse Joy if she can call me when it arrives."

"_Oh,_" the man said, slightly snotty. "Well, then, while we're here do you care for that battle I owe you?" he wondered, cocking his head.

I looked up at Harley quickly. "Really?" I wondered, grinning brightly. "Yes! Yes!" I grabbed his arm as we walked, excitedly pressing up against him.

"My," the man chuckled, "you'd think I'd have just ask you if you wanted fucking world peace." He patted my head, enjoying the closeness, obviously.

"Well, I want to train Slugma more," I told him. "I think I am going to keep him on my team for the League since I don't have a Fire-type." I continued to press against Harley as I felt the man's fingers go through my hair.

Harley did not feel like cooking breakfast this morning, so instead, he took me to a diner, where he claimed they made the absolute best oatmeal ever. I didn't even know he liked that stuff, and really, it amused me greatly. We had ventured out to the city quite early because of the breakfast, and I had suggested afterward we could visit the Pokémon Center. Even though Harley had assumed it was because I was curious whether May had responded or not, that wasn't the reason at all (I knew it was too soon), but I did indeed want to ask Nurse Joy to forward it to Harley's house.

When we entered the Center, I immediately approached the front desk. Nurse Joy, who was typing away at the computer there, looked up, then extended her lips into a warm, pleasant smile. She stood up, walking over to me and greeting me instantly.

"How may I help you?" she wondered. "Do your Pokémon need a checkup?"

"No," I told her, "I am here because I told someone to send a letter to me at this address. I was wondering if you could call me when it comes in."

Nurse Joy smiled and picked up pen a paper from the far side of the counter. "Sure," she said, handing me the material. "Just write down your name and number, and I'll be sure to contact you."

"Thank you," I said, beginning to scribble onto the paper. I wrote my name, then Harley's phone number, which I had learned this morning along with his correct address. He lived on _Rt. 09-33_, which I thought was funny, as I had never heard of a street, in the outskirts of a town and in very homey neighborhood, being referred to simply as numbers.

I handed back the paper to Nurse Joy, and she once again assured me she would call when my letter arrived. I walked away from the front desk, finding that Harley hadn't been behind me like I thought, and instead was standing over by the window, filing his nails again. I went over to him, pulling at his sleeve and interrupting his manicure.

"Let's go battle," I insisted, gesturing to the sign that pointed towards the arena out back. "And, let's battle using Kirlia and Cacturne! Like I suggested before!"

"A rematch?" he wondered as he put away his nail filer. "Oh, I like the sound of that." He grinned and began walking, obviously agreeing.

"I think whoever wins should get something," I then told the man.

"Yeah, gambling with Pokémon?" he concluded. "Isn't that morally wrong, you little crook?"

"It's not _that,_" I argued. "It's just for fun! I mean, as long as the winner doesn't get anything, like, bad."

Harley laughed, putting a hand over his mouth. "You're such a goof, darling," he stated as we entered the back room.

There were quite a number of other trainers in the room, but they were all sitting on the bleachers talking, none battling at the moment. Harley quickly claimed his side of the battlefield, so I rushed over to my side, grabbing Kirlia's Pokéball. Harley, posed so cinematically over on the other side, took out Cacturne's and threw it out, having the large, towering Scarecrow Pokémon land in a _thump_. I threw Kirlia's, having her land just in front of its green opponent. The two instantly recognized each other, although having only interacted during Harley and mine's first match. They seemed to develop an instant rivalry now, perhaps knowing that they would be battling more in the future.

"Okay, Cacturne," Harley called out, "don't let Kirlia win this time! Use Needle Arm!"

"Kirlia, Future Sight!"

Kirlia concentrated for a short moment, using her psychic powers to anticipate a future attack of Cacturne. Then, feeling Cacturne's Needle Arm approaching, jumped up, dodging the attack completely. Cacturne kept shooting, moving its thick arm in every direction of Kirlia. But, being rather slow, Kirlia was able to continue dodging the needles.

"Now, use Confusion!" I ordered.

Kirlia's eyes lit up in a blue glow, and although focusing deeply to allow the attack a powerful outcome, she managed to release the Confusion quickly. Cacturne was hit, obviously taking the attack in all its might. The green Pokémon quivered, but otherwise seemed fine, not being affected by a puzzled and hazed aftermath. Harley immediately commanded Cacturne use Pin Missile, causing the Pokémon to lift its arm again, shooting out purple hues in all directions. One pin hit Kirlia, causing her legs to buckle, falling over instantly.

However, before I could gather time to panic, Kirlia then stood up, and discharged a bright, burning ray of light, zapping onto Cacturne and forcing the green Pokémon to fall backwards, sliding against the brown flooring. It had been Kirlia's Future Sight attack, obviously sensing Cacturne's next move even before they were made. I smiled, glad I had ordered that as the first move.

"Cacturne, use Leech Seed!"

"Kirlia, Confusion, again!"

Cacturne somehow managed to effectively let out its attack first. The spores locked onto Kirlia's arms and legs, sucking out energy from her and bringing it all over to Cacturne. Cacturne's posture heightened, making me realize that a far amount of Kirlia's strength had been sucked out. The last of the spores remained on her, but she shook it out, letting her eyes light up again in the blue light and crush against Cacturne. This time, the Confusion affected him differently, and just like the first battle, Cacturne's concentration was tampered with, and the green Pokémon stumbled and fell back and forth on each leg.

From where I was standing, I saw Harley's mouth move in several curses, and he pursed his lips, obvious trying to think long and hard over what to do next. While he was doing so, I told Kirlia to use Double Team, and soon after, Harley ordered Cacturne to use Faint Attack.

Kirlia's form multiplied, but Cacturne was not the least bit intimidated. Instead, Cacturne chose to release several bursts of Faint Attack, all hitting one of the Kirlia figures at least once. The real Kirlia was hit twice, falling backwards and staying down for a long time.

"Kirlia, Psychic!" I yelled.

"Finish this, Cacturne! Use Faint Attack again!"

And Cacturne did this quickly, already warmed up from its last attack. The green Scarecrow threw the attack on Kirlia heavily, and the smaller creature fell backwards once again, an instant and very painful knockout. It didn't even take a second for Harley to realize he had won, and he loudly cheered, beginning to pride Cacturne over and over.

I sighed heavily, walking over to Kirlia and kneeling down. "It's okay," I told her sincerely. "You did your best, you really did." The creature gave a small smile before I returned her into the ball. I replaced the ball into my backpack, then stood to face Harley over on the other side of the battlefield.

"See, I told you Cacturne's ego wouldn't let another loss pollute his mind," Harley remarked, returning Cacturne as the man beamed with an almighty sense of pride.

"It's funny, too, because you haven't trained Cacturne _once _since that battle," I mentioned, rubbing the back of my head. "Congratulations."

Harley smiled at me, running his hand down the side of my cheek. "Oh, cheer up," he chided softly. "You did well."

Despite feeling down, I allowed the man to touch me, and I think I even leaned into his ministrations. He swung an arm around me, hugging me tightly, which I was incredibly embarrassed about because of the other trainers in the room. I didn't have the heart to push him away though. I just let him hug me. When I felt his arms begin to rub up and down my back, though, I had to move away. The man smiled at me mischievously, then began taking out a cigarette, placing it between his lips.

"You can't smoke here!" I reminded him.

"Fine, let's leave then," he replied, rolling his eyes and walking towards the exit.

I followed, keeping up nicely as we reached the lobby. "So, what are we going to do now?" I wondered.

"Personally, I was thinking we'd go fly kites."

"Huh?"

"I saw a flyer in the Center for a kite competition," he explained, "and I think we should go. It's at the park, darling."

I furrowed my brow. "Why, Harley?" I asked in puzzlement. "I mean, that's so not _you._"

"Well, don't you like flying kites?" he asked me. "And, I have quickly decided that I like watching you fly kites. At least, from what I'm envisioning I do." He extended his arm, rubbing the back of my neck with his fingers.

"Well, I guess it gives us something to do," I agreed, still kind of confused. "This isn't a trap though, right?"

"Of course not!" the man shouted, grabbing my arm and forcing me to speed up. "So, have you ever flew one, darling?"

"A couple of times," I admitted. "My dad once took May and I kite flying once. I think I was seven or something."

Harley chuckled. "Oh, yes, I am going to enjoy watching you fly a kite: running with those little faunlet legs of yours, straining your small, cute arms as you hold the sting! I think I'm getting hard just thinking about it!"

"_Harley,_" I grunted, exhaling deeply. "Don't be weird."

"Don't be a delicious little faunlet then," he countered, rubbing his fingers around my neck hair even more teasingly.

"I think I'm going to let Murkrow out when we get to the park," I said, changing the subject. "You should let out Sneasel."

Harley nodded, and we continued walking to the park. It took about five more minutes before we actually got there, and already, from a distance, I could see various kites, of all different shapes, sizes and colors, flying through the air. Many had ribbons and bows tied to the long string, which made it seem a little silly, if you asked me.

At the very center of the large, grassy park, there was a booth for registration and where you could rent the kite. Harley was quick to sign-up, although it took several minutes, and when he was done, he received some sort of flyer and a large, orange kite, in the shape of a Torchic face. I couldn't help laugh, thinking it was cute, but Harley apparently thought it was dumb, because he gave a weird face.

He handed me the kite and said, "Make this worth it for me, darling."

"I'm certainly not the one who suggested it," I noted, taking the kite. "Hey, where's yours?" I then asked, beginning to walk to where everyone else was flying.

"_I'm _not participating," he revealed. "I just want to sit back and watch. Remember what I said about your legs?"

"Hey, if I had known you actually weren't going to participate, I would _not _have agreed!" I shouted. "This is just like when you tricked me into going swimming in Goldenrod City!" I yelled.

"Hmm, well, then, this day is certainly quite reminiscent to when we first got to know each other," he teased. "But, _Max, _darling, don't be a letdown. I'll help you, if you prefer that."

"What's the point of this competition anyway?"

"To get your kite the highest, of course!" he revealed. Then, for the first time, the man took a look at the flyer he received. He read over it, cocking his head a bit and saying, "There's carnival tomorrow."

"Carnival?" I took the flyer as he handed it to me, looking at the advertisement. "On the boardwalk, too," I then read, continuing to walk through the park.

The two of us found a relatively empty spot, enough room all around for me to run and gain speed for the kite's height in the air. After I put my bag down, I looked at the flyer again, reading about what would be at the event and other tidbits. When I was done, I gave the flyer back to Harley.

"A carnival's something we haven't done," the man pointed out, putting away the flyer. "_I _think we should check it out. Imagine the fun!"

"Fun?" I echoed. "I hope that's a pretty _normal kind _of fun you're speaking of, Harley."

"It is!" he defended. "We could have cotton candy! Who _doesn't _like cotton candy?"

"We could ride the Ferris wheel, too," I suggested. "Maybe it will be worth our time."

"Ferris wheel?" the man questioned. "I'm not too keen with heights, darling."

"_Really_?" I exclaimed. I then made a considerate sound, shrugging. "I would've never guessed."

Slightly embarrassed, or so I guessed, the man rolled his eyes as I began messing with the kite, furling it out and then dropping it to the ground as I held the end. Harley, setting his bag down where I did, approached me, crossing his arms and watching as I got ready.

"Now I kind of really want to go," I told Harley. "Just so I can get you on that Ferris wheel." I laughed.

"It's not until tomorrow and the day after," he reminded me. "I have better plans for both days. Shagging and swimming."

"I'm pretty sure that's unhealthy for two days straight," I muttered, still messing with the kite.

After a minute or two, my kite was ready, and I then ran a few feet, watching as the kite dragged, and soon, flew up into the sky. It stayed there, floating and swaying, for a long while, but eventually, it fell flat, hitting the ground.

"Ooh, Max, your legs are so strong," the man commented, an obvious lecherous tone that was meant to sound somewhat sarcastic. But, truthfully, I knew it was sincere because he was looking and admiring and wanting. He was so weird.

The sign near the registration said the actual competition started at noon. We had a good ten or so minutes before I had to really start trying, so I walked back over to Harley, giving him a blank look, and hoping he'd try to help me get the kite into the air. However, the man just kept looking at me, and I _knew _that look. It was the look of desire and lust. How could me running a few feet with a Torchic kite cause Harley to get so turned on?

Sort of weary of the man's look, I decided to just run again and attempt to get the kite high in the air. As I did this, my mind wandered back to yesterday, and Harley's little act of dressing as May and seducing me. It was weird. It was _still _weird now. I had asked him to dress up in it, and although I had previously imagined what it would be like with him dressed, and well, having sex with me, I didn't expect it to go that way yesterday. Moreover, my small thoughts as I had stared at the chifforobe my first night at Harley's house, had really only been _thoughts._ I never expected them to relate to reality. And, I certainly did not expect Harley to _act like _May. He mocked her voice, he mocked her mannerism, and he even mocked what sex would be like with a girl. I was humiliated.

Even worse, Harley had pointed out my arousal forming before he had touched me. In many ways, that was normal, but not for us. Harley usually coaxed me into sex, and although I was willing, and sometimes eager, I had never been fully hard until his hand wrapped around me. But not yesterday. Then—then!—I had called May's name instead of Harley's. God, what was wrong with me? And, I just judged Harley for being turned on by me running, yet I had basically imagined having sex with May and hadn't been _disturbed _at the time. Jeesh.

What would May have thought if she knew? I feared her discovering about Harley and I, but what about _that_? Surely there was no way of her knowing unless I told her, but if, for some reason, she had found out, how sickened would she be? I was so tormented by this I simply couldn't even think about it for too long. I was ashamed of myself, _so ashamed. _It felt like I had betrayed Harley, too, because it wasn't him I thought about, it was my sister._ My sister._

As I walked back over to Harley, gathering the long sting I had let flow through my run, I saw that the man was sitting, having a cigarette and keeping his eyes locked on me possessively. I sat down to rest, catching my breath, and Harley leaned over, kissing me deeply. I tasted the fresh tobacco on his mouth, metallic and spirited, and when his tongue entered, the tang only heightened. We were far enough away from other people for me not to worry, so I pressed in, allowing the man to rub his free hand against my neck. When my glasses slid an inch or so off the bridge of my nose, the man pulled away, grinning, then took them off.

"Hey!" I shouted, trying to grab them back.

Instead of complying, Harley just extended his arm into the air, making it harder for me to retrieve them. He looked at the glasses curiously, then placed them on himself, posing particularly and grinning. "You like?" he asked, peeking over the lens and at me.

"You don't look that bad," I admitted, backing up to see him better. "Now, give them back." I reached for them again, snatching them off the man's face.

He laughed, kissing me again through his chuckle and helping me properly put back on my glasses. "You look so adorable with your glasses on, Max," he voiced, stamping a kiss on my chin. "Most kids look like morons, but you—oh, _you_—look like an absolute sweetie. They sharpen your faunletism, if you ask me." The man tried to move over, on top of me, but I stopped him.

"Hey, it's almost noon—don't distract me!" I warned, pushing him further away. I stood up, dusting myself off and then preparing my kite again.

Harley's persistence could be such a pain sometimes. I didn't understand why everything somehow, some way led to Harley wanting to have sex, whether we were in public, private, _wherever. _It annoyed me more when we had already done something beforehand, and that was the case today, where this morning Harley and I had been halfway out the door before the man decided to grab my hips and get all touchy-feely. He ended up dragging me back into the house and—as Harley would put it, though personally I hated the word, but at least it was better than the alternative—"_shagged._" And, on his couch, too! Sometimes he made me feel so feral the way he enticed me into things. Why was it again I liked it all so much?

Sighing—both in aggravation and a final exhale to catch my breath—I perked up when I heard the man at the registration booth begin to speak over the microphone, loud and clear over the yards of the park. He explained that the competition would be starting soon, lasting for twenty-five minutes, where, at the end, whose ever was the highest, would be awarded the unknown prize. As the announcer continued on and on about guidelines and the like, I took a good look around the entire park, and realized that contestants seemed very sincere about wanting to win. I suddenly did not feel right participating, although I doubted I would win anyway.

I shook out my kite one more time, just in time for a loud, blazing siren to go off, signaling we all were permitted to begin. Many of the contestants dashed off, trailing their kite behind so it would float swiftly into the air and rise higher and higher. I turned to give Harley a quick look, and he blew some smoke out from his nostrils, winking at me and looking rather amused by all this. I stared blankly at the Torchic design on the kite, slightly reminded of May's.

"Maximus, what are you doing?" the man questioned, cocking his head. "Run, and prove what those legs of yours can do."

So, inspired by his words, I decided to go. I ran—raced, almost—and allowed the kite to throw itself into the wind, causing it to flutter up and float around for a reasonably long time. I kept running, coming around in a loop to head back towards where I started, dragging the kite along with me. When I stopped and turned around, I was glad to see the kite still hanging in the air, being tossed back and forth between the gusts of winds. I gave a bright smile in Harley's direction, and as he stood he flicked his dead cigarette somewhere behind a tree, eventually coming over to watch the kite more closely.

"You know I'm not going to win, right?" I said to him, raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't want you to enter to win," Harley voiced, putting his hands on his hips.

"Yeah, you just wanted to stare at me," I droned, making a face.

"Well, then screw the competition, and let's have our own fun!" the man then shouted.

Before I knew it, his grip was beneath my underarms, and he lifted me powerfully, pressing my back against his chest as I still held the kite. He was nuzzling my neck as he continued holding me, letting my legs dangle off the ground. I began squirming in a sense of discomfort, trying to readjust my position. I ended up letting go of the kite by accident, and immediately, the object whirled away, getting swept away in the heavy wind like an inflated balloon. I reached out, trying to catch it, only making Harley's grip more uncomfortable and causing him to stumble over in surprise at my hurried action. The man fell backwards, flat on his bottom with me still in his lap. He yelped in pain as my weight pressed down, then, roughly, let out a swear.

From the corner of my eye, I witnessed Harley's green hat collapse onto the grass, but my vision stayed locked on the Torchic kite, tangled in the wind and ending up colliding into a tall, bushy tree. I chuckled softly at this, realizing instantly I had most definitely lost the competition, though I hardly cared, to be honest. Then, remembering myself, I slid off Harley's lap, my eyes wide with curiosity.

"I'm sorry!" I told him, half-smiling. "But, that was sort of your fault."

The man glared as he put back on his hat. But, then, his lips extended into a smile and he reached out and stroked my chin. "You lost your kite, you dummy."

"I know," I acknowledged, rubbing the back of my head. "Oh well."

Harley pulled me forward, forcing me to straddle his lap facing him. "Honestly, we don't seem to have much luck with anything. First fishing, now _this. _It's a wonder we even have Pokémon."

I laughed, nodding in agreement. "Oh, but that reminds me!" I then exclaimed, reaching and grabbing my bag. I took out Murkrow's Pokéball, releasing the black bird instantly. "Let out your Sneasel!" I urged.

Harley pursed his lips, apparently too lazy to reach back for his bag. I helped by grabbing it for him, and as he released his Pokémon, I watched as Murkrow perched himself on a tall tree, staring out at the many colorful kites spread across the large park. When Sneasel was released, the creature took notice of the kites, too, and ended up following Murkrow up the tree to get a better sight of all the activity. The man then reached into his pocket, taking out another cigarette from his box and lighting the stick up. I watched him suck in the fumes, recognizing the calm dash that swept through the man afterwards.

I cocked my head and asked, "Are you _ever _going to quit?"

"Quit smoking?" the man wondered. "Why? Do you think I'm going to _die_?" He grinned at me, exhaling a messy and thick cloud of smoke in the space between us.

I waved away most of the smog without coughing, but glared at the man nonetheless. "I just don't see the reason for it, that's all," I explained, turning my head to the left and right to check to see if anyone was watching Harley and I.

"You like how it tastes on me though." He grinned, looming his mouth over mine and letting some small puffs of smoke release from his mouth. "I can tell."

Harley leaned into me, pressing me into a loose embrace. Everyone was distracted by the kite competition—maybe even mine, still caught in the tree—and I doubted they were paying attention to the two of us, off in the distant. I breathed into the man's shoulder, smelling him quickly and realizing there was a distant lilac tint to him today. He still smelt like lavender, as always, and this just made me want to bring him closer to me, even though that was nearly impossible; we were already so fused. So, instead, I boldly decided to kiss him, straight on the mouth and surprisingly deep. It didn't even take a second for the man to respond: he gripped my hip with his free hand, held his cigarette in the other and rubbed our chests together for the sake of more contact.

His mouth tasted particularly metallic, but I could also taste a hint of artificial pecan from the tea he had with his breakfast this morning. It was an interesting combination, and for one of the first times, I decided to suck on his bottom lip the way Harley always tended to do with me. The man gave a soft moan before pulling away, beginning to stroke my cheek fondly.

"You and I are basically disqualified from the competition," Harley noted, kissing my neck. "First for losing the fucking kite, and soon, for shagging right here in public."

"Eh, I haven't agreed to the second, Harley," I warned him, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, your kite flying was fun while it lasted. You were adorable. As always."

I blushed, looking down for a moment to absorb his compliment. I still could never tell with Harley, whether he was making fun of me or if he just wanted to gush. I kissed Harley one more time before insisting we stand up. Our Pokémon, seeing us stand, came down from the tree, and Murkrow landed directly on my shoulder, cawing loudly. As I bent down for my backpack, I took out the Dusk Stone and showed it to Murkrow, who was very curious about the small stone.

"See this?" I said to him. "It's a Dusk Stone. If I used it on you, you could evolve."

Curiosity was sweeping over the dark bird, and he checked out the stone a bit more. It was obvious he very much understood what this meant, but was considering what it would be like to change his _form._

"It's definitely your choice," I then stated. "If you don't want to evolve, I won't force you, because that wouldn't be fair. Go ahead and think about it for a while, okay?"

Murkrow gave a sound of agreement, and I petted its feathery neck before returning it into Pokéball. Harley returned Sneasel and the two of us stood for moment, simply watching as other people flew their kites, completely serious about the competition. I almost felt like Harley and I had wasted our time, but it was still nice to be in the park and enjoy the weather, bright and sunny with the nice breeze.

Instead of leaving right away, Harley continued standing, smoking dully and seeming to keep an eye on the park as if he were expecting something or someone. I was curious about the latter, wondering if perhaps he knew anyone here in the park. I knew he must've had some kind of acquaintances in the city—_those kind _or not—and part of me was almost interested in meeting someone Harley knew. My only knowledge of who Harley was came from the man himself, my experiences with him, and of course, the past. I wondered what someone else who knew him pretty well would say, and if they knew the extent of my relationship with Harley, how they would feel about that, too. I almost wished Harley had a relative.

Harley did, however, know that one lady who took care of his Pokémon. Why the man hadn't decided to go get the rest of his Pokémon was a mystery to me, but I didn't feel right asking about it, because it would reveal my thoughts. Harley told me the woman was too "dingy" to know the truth about us, but remembering the way Harley smiled—and not one of his phony ones!—made me realize that they actually _were _friends.

Having gained the courage, I asked, "Harley, where's that lady who takes care of your Pokémon?"

"Livvie?" Harley said, and I realized this was the first time he actually revealed her name to me. "She doesn't live that far from the city—maybe even closer from here than my house. _Why_?"

"I was just curious," I said, shrugging. "Are you two, like, friends?"

"Of the sorts," he replied. "She used to be a maid at my house when I was growing up."

"_Really_?" I exclaimed. "But she's so young!"

"She's thirty, was nineteen when she started working for us, and I was only thirteen. We got along quite well, and after my parents died, she began as a caretaker."

"Oh…" I quietly voiced. "So, are you going to get your Pokémon?"

Harley inhaled some of his cigarette. "If you don't mind, we could get them now. I suppose having a full party of Pokémon around wouldn't hurt. And, I've been absolutely ignoring my poor Wigglytuff lately, so maybe it's best if I have her stay there with Livvie."

"I don't mind," I agreed, almost too eagerly.

"Good then!" Harley said, sucking in some more fumes. "Off we go then."

Harley began taking a different way than where we came from, and I kept up well. It was very different than the other side of the city, and we past many buildings, so tall and captivating that it was hard to believe so many where just pointless businesses. Slateport had an interesting structure, especially the way it displayed a busy, city-like exterior, but later formed into a quiet beachside town, like where Harley lived. There was, of course, the steep hill off in the distance, where the Contest Hall stood, and the various bridges that stood more prominently in the scenery.

As we walked, Harley finished his cigarette and discarded it on the side of the street, littering rudely. He placed his hand on my far shoulder and pulled me close, and I could smell the faint, imprinted scent of tobacco on his fingers. We walked slowly, eventually reaching the end of the city and crossing over a small bridge that led to a calmer part of town. There, on the other side, there were several spread-out houses, all possessing extremely large backyards. I spotted one, east of the others, and the acre property in the back was tremendously long. Out in front of that particular gray house was a sign reading: _All Service Pokémon Daycare._

Getting closer and closer to the house, I saw that in the back there were quite a few Pokémon scampering around the fenced yard, including a Pachirisu, Spinda and Electrike. Harley and I approached the house, walking on top of stones engraved in the grass, leading towards the front door. Harley knocked on the door, and suddenly a bit nervous, I backed up a little, going behind the man.

Harley turned around, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing?" he wondered, seeing me stand there with my lips pursed.

"I, uh, I don't know what I'm supposed to say or do."

Harley ran his hands through my hair. "Max, I believe I told you already that this woman is a bit dense. She's not going to suspect a thing."

But, at this point, it wasn't even _that_ I was worried about. It was more about the fact I would be meeting a woman who knew Harley before me. And what if she knew something about Harley that I didn't want to know about? Something bad. Something embarrassing. Something that would really disturb me.

"Harley!"

I looked up now, seeing the door had open in a rush and the same lady I had seen on the phone was standing there, dressed down in a brown work apron with her hair tied up in a bun. Her yellow skirt, viewable from the side edge of the apron, was down to her knees and she had a white blouse, too. She immediately stepped out of the doorway, waving both her hands to usher Harley inside. Then she noticed me.

"Yes, hello to you, too, Livvie," Harley greeted, giving a rather charming smile. "This here,"—he gestured to me widely—"is my dear, dear friend. He's a trainer, too."

Livvie tilted her head, giving me a cautious smile. "Hi there," she said, reaching out for a handshake. "What's your name?" she then asked, and I noticed her tone was so soft and polite, like she was talking to a little child.

"Max," I revealed, taking her hand and shaking it slowly.

"Max doesn't want to drop off any Pokémon. He is just here with me." He smiled, but all his words were so suggestive that I couldn't believe this woman wasn't already suspicious.

"Oh, I see," Livvie said. "Does this mean you want me to take back some of yours?" she then asked Harley.

"Just Wigglytuff," he answered, "but I decided I want a full party, so I'll be taking three."

Livvie began walking further inside her house, which was so small and modern and decorated in an orderly combination of oak wood furniture, woven upholstery and weird knickknacks. Almost improperly placed, there was a counter at the far side of the enclosure, which Livvie was walking towards. She took out a large black binder, turning to the right page and began marking a few things.

"It's really good to see you, Harley," she noted out loud, looking up at the man. "You just called, like, a week ago. I can't believe you're in town already."

"Neither can I," he admitted. "We just decided to drop by for a few weeks." He grinned in a thoughtful way to her, but a more knowing way to me.

"I see," she said, nodding. "So, which Pokémon do you want back?"

"Hmm!" he exclaimed, putting a finger to his chin. "Banette, Stunky, and Ariados."

"Stunky!" I vehemently shouted. "You never told me you owned one of those!"

Harley turned to look at me—Livvie did the same—and the man curled his lips in a pursed smile. "I know, darling," he said, laughing a little.

"He also has a Natu, Skarmory, Marowak and Duskull."

"Harley!" I gaped widely, utterly shocked, but, then said, "Why did you tell me about them?"

"You knew I had a Natu and Skarmory," he innocently said, but he knew I was referring to the other three. He then turned to Livvie, giving her a Pokéball, which I presumed was Wigglytuff's.

"I'll be right back," she said, turning and going through a backdoor.

I went closer to Harley and furrowed my brow. "I asked you before which Pokémon you had!"

Harley began laughing even harder. "I know that. Don't act like I've gone and _betrayed _you, darling. I just forgot about them."

"Forgot?" I repeated, confused. "How do you forget about your Pokémon?"

"It happens," he assured me, giving me a playful grin. "But, don't worry, Maximus. I wasn't keeping anything from you!"

I relaxed a little bit, positive he was telling the truth but still a little sketchy about how you forgot about which Pokémon you capture. Each one was so special and represented something completely individual. I finally just shrugged, walking closer to the man.

"I can't believe you have Stunky! Where'd you even capture it?"

"Right here in Slateport," he responded. "Just in the outskirts."

"Wow, I can't believe that!" I excitedly beamed. I then clung to his arm, urging, "Release it when she gives it back! I want to see it!"

Harley's grin softened into a jaunty shine, and he carefully kneeled down, kissing me on the lower chin. "Why don't you get this excited for other things, huh?" he wondered, sliding his hand down my back. "You're just _precious _when you get all riled up like this."

I flushed nervously. "I've never seen a Stunky before!" I explained.

Harley rolled his eyes in amusement. "Well, you will now," he guaranteed, kissing me evenly. He then stood up, leaning against the counter and winking at me. "Then, I think we need to go home and have ourselves a good time, don't you think?"

I tilted my head, but as I did so, I noticed from a far window that it was suddenly very cloudy out. "I think it's going to rain," I noted.

"Oh, you said that last time, and nothing happened," he waved off, shrugging.

"Okay, Harley," Livvie suddenly said, coming in from the backdoor and holding three Pokéballs, "I have your Pokémon." She reached out, handing each to Harley, who carefully placed them in his bag, save for one.

"Thank you, dear," he said, then reaching into his front pocket and taking out some cash. "Here you go."

Livvie smiled as she took it, quickly counting it out. "Thank you, Harley."

"And thank you, again, for taking care of my little darlings!" he then beamed, turning around and waving at her as he did so. "I'll see you later. Take care."

"You, too, Harley," she said, waving back.

I followed Harley out of the daycare and back onto the small neighborhood street. We began walking back over the bridge, but instead of going where we came from, we took another road, leading to the western side of the city, which I presumed was a shortcut back to Harley's house.

When we began walking on the concrete cement, Harley summoned his Pokémon out of the ball, and Stunky suddenly appeared on the sidewalk, standing on all fours and yawning tiredly. It blinked a couple of times, and from the coat color, I could tell it was female. It then turned, noticing Harley, and as dark and angry as the creature looked, it features softened and displayed a high sense of joy. It gurgled in its own way, walking up and brushing against Harley's ankle.

"Nice to see you, too," Harley said, bending down and petting the small purple Pokémon. "I've missed you!"

Again, the Stunky rippled a noise, still appearing so happy. It gave me a look, and Harley gestured over to me with a single arm, signaling he knew me and that my presence was safe.

"This is Max," he introduced.

I reached down, stroking the creature's incredibly soft fur. Her tail was even softer, and I smiled widely as I said, "Hi there!" I patted her head a final time before Harley stood properly and began walking.

"I'm glad to have you back with me," Harley told the creature. He then looked towards me. "Back to _Maison de Harley, _it is."

"I want to battle Stunky!" I told the man. "Maybe with Murkrow! A Dark-type against a Dark-type—how _cool _would that be?"

"Not nearly as cool as you and I finding somewhere to fuck right now," he droned, moving some bangs out of his face.

"Where'd that come from?" I demanded, giving him a weird look.

"Maybe this cloudy weather is turning me on," he suggested, giving a shrug. He then opened his palm, feeling the air. "I think I felt a raindrop."

"Really?" I asked, looking up to the sky as we walked.

"This gives me an excuse to bring you home and get a fire going!" he sang out jovially. "_And, _for you to use your umbrella."

Suddenly, the man halted me, unzipping my backpack as I still wore it and digging into it. He found the umbrella right away and popped it open, letting it rise above us. Harley smiled at me and urged me to walk, still holding the umbrella as the raindrops continued to fall gently. At the very bottom of the handle, the tag reading _To Max, my adorable sweet faunlet_ was still there, swaying loosely as the man walked with the umbrella.

"I thought you didn't share umbrellas," I pointed out in amusement.

"Did I say that to you once?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "How could you forget! That's _why _I had to wear my poncho and that's why you made fun of me!"

Harley laughed wildly, putting a hand over his mouth and chortling. "What on earth was I thinking back then?" he asked to himself. "Declining having my sweet Max all close to me under an umbrella. Jeesh!"

"Well, I wasn't your _'sweet Max'_ back then," I reminded him, almost bitterly.

"You are now!" The man snaked an arm around me as best he could, holding me against his side as we walked. His eyes then lowered to Stunky, who was walking a bit slower to get under the umbrella, too.

The more we walked, the more and more it rained, heavier and faster. By the time we reached Harley's street, it was simply pouring, and the man returned Stunky before we stepped over a deep puddle. We reached his house and he closed the umbrella, shaking the excess water and then opening the front door, which he hadn't locked. Entering the house, we both took off our shoes, placing them by the door, where Harley decided to put the umbrella, too.

Removing his hat, the man placed it on the couch and stretched his muscles tiredly. He then walked over to the kitchen, filling up a teakettle with faucet water and placing it on the stove.

"I think I am going to get changed," I voiced. I felt a bit too cold in my current outfit, even though it wasn't the least bit wet from the rain.

"Oh, no, no, no!" the man argued, rushing over to me and pulling my arm. "You're going to warm up by the fire!" He began dragging me to the den, where the large, hearthstone fireplace was located.

At first I thought for sure that he was going to start organizing logs into the fireplace, but instead, he simply flicked a switch at the side wall, and I noticed that flames spurted to life instantly on top of the wood, already placed inside. It was an electric fireplace, but the wooden logs appeared to be real. I stepped closer, examining the flames, seeing that they had come from some kind of grill-like burner.

Just as I was going to say something snarky, the man snuck up behind me, pulling me down to the floor along with himself. He smiled widely, brushing his hair to his side and removing his jacket.

He kissed my shoulder, nuzzling my neck for a moment before lying on his back, exhaling loudly. "You know _what, _Maximus!"

I made a musing sound, curious, but remained fixated on the fire that was quickly starting to become more and more powerful as the flames stuck to the wood, burning the bark and forcing sparkling, crackling noises.

"I think we've fucked almost twenty times."

I furrowed my brow, twisting around and looking at Harley in shock. I gaped widely, then exclaimed, "What are you doing keeping _track_?"

Harley chuckled. "Oh, I haven't, darling. I counted just now." He snickered again. "That's a record, you know. I haven't shagged the same person even _half_ as much as that."

I furrowed my brow even deeper. "I don't need to know about your… your _past _acquaintances," I seethed, biting my lower lip.

"Ah, but, it's not as though they cast a flame to your glory, Maximus," he assured me, patting my thigh. "You are just a doll, and you know it. Want to increase the number?"

"Don't you have water boiling?" I wondered, cocking my head.

"My stove is slow," he then said, tugging at my waist to lie down next to him. When I did, he crawled over me, straddling my lap. "We have time, and who cares if the water overflows? Your ass is worth it."

xxxxx

_-Max-_

It was around ten o'clock when I woke up. At first I felt very stiff and uncomfortable until I sat properly, and I realized that I was still on the floor of the den. I rubbed the sleepiness out of my eyes with my palms, then looked around the small room. The fire wasn't going anymore, and I figured the electricity on it shut off during the night. Covering my lower half of my body was a thin, blue blanket, and to my left, I saw Harley was awake, lying on his back with his head propped up with one arm as he smoked a cigarette. He was obviously lost in thought though, because he wasn't looking over at me.

I stretched a little and scooted over to Harley, trying to get him to pay attention. The man blinked a little before he smiled, realizing I was awake. He sat up fully, looping an arm around me and bringing me close for a kiss on my cheek. I returned the kiss with my own, but instead, I placed my lips directly on his despite the cigarette hanging loosely from the right side of his mouth. He breathed some smoke into my mouth, which made me gag, but I recovered quickly, shaking my head and quickly glaring.

"How did you sleep?" he wondered, combing his fingers through my hair.

"Fine," I told him. Almost childlike, I clung to Harley's arm, enjoying how warm his body felt at the moment. "My back sort of hurts though. I've heard it's bad for your bones to sleep on the floor."

Harley scoffed as he exhaled some more smoke. "I suppose it is," he said, rubbing my shoulder. "Want breakfast, Maximus?" he then inquired, sucking at my shoulder's skin.

"Sure," I answered, shrugging.

The man stood up, finding his pants at the far edge of the fireplace. He slid them on and zippered them, but failed to re-buckle the belt. After finishing the cigarette and throwing it in the blank fireplace, he walked out of the den and into the kitchen. I decided to get up, too, finding my scattered clothing throughout the room and dressing properly. Afterwards, I put on my glasses and followed Harley into the kitchen, where he was busy taking out a fryer and a carton of eggs.

"I wonder who ended up winning that kite competition," I voiced, taking a seat on one of the stools. "I wonder what the prize was, too."

Harley laughed as he washed his hands under the sink. "Ah, who cares? The whole thing was worth watching you run and scamper about with that little Torchic kite. You were adorable."

I rolled my eyes away from the man's view, watching as he put on his apron and tied it. "We should go to the carnival tonight," I reminded him. "I want some cotton candy. Maybe I can win something, too."

"We have plenty of fun at _Maison de Harley_," he assured me. "But, maybe. Only if you let me win a prize _for you_."

I noticed there were still some cupcakes leftover on the counter, protected by a plastic covering. I took one, unwrapping it carefully, and saying, "That would be nice of you, but are you even good at any of the games?"

Harley turned and looked at me, caused him to give me a funny look. "I'm here making you breakfast, and you're filling up on cupcakes?"

"Well, I don't want the rest of them to go to waste," I argued, continuing to eat the snack. "Don't worry—I'll have room left for your breakfast."

"You better," he said, beginning to crack some eggs over the frying pan. The man then glanced up, looking out the window above the sink and quickly noticing it was still drizzling. "Well, it's a bit too gloomy for a carnival."

"We could always go tomorrow," I pointed out, rubbing the back of my head.

"Sounds like an excuse to stay in today then," the man said as he cooked. Then, suddenly, he turned around, hearing the phone ring. He rose an eyebrow, obviously confused—maybe even worried—and wandered over to the living room, picking up the receiver. "Hello?" he answered, his brow creased.

I, too, wondered who was calling, but from the look on Harley's face, it was apparent he normally did not get phone calls. He seemed rather calm as the person on the other line talked, and he nodded along, eventually telling whomever to hold on a second. He covered the speaker with his palm as he walked over to me.

"It's for _you._"

"Huh?" I said in disbelief.

"It's Nurse Joy," he then explained, and I suddenly remembered I had given her Harley's number.

"Oh," I then voiced, still pretty confused. I took the phone from the man, and he went back to the stove, flipping the eggs over with the turner. I cleared my throat, then said, "Hello?"

"Good morning, Max," Nurse Joy greeted on the other end. "I hope you don't mind me calling you. Your sister actually called this morning, wishing to speak with you."

"M-my _sister_?" I echoed, furrowing my brow. My words caused Harley to turn around, and he, too, gave a rather puzzled expression. But, I sensed he was also a bit angry now.

"Yes, she said she received your letter this morning," Nurse Joy further explained. "She called to speak with you, but I told her you weren't staying here. I wasn't sure whether you wanted the phone number you gave disclosed, so I just told her I'd see if I could get in contact with you."

Slightly relieved Nurse Joy hadn't revealed Harley's number to May, I then wondered how on earth May received my letter so quickly. I stayed silent for a few moments, unsure what to say, but finally, I decided to ask, "Did she say anything else?"

"Yes, Max," she told me. "She wants you to call her. She said she's home."

"Home?" I repeated. "Um, okay, thank you, Nurse Joy. Thanks very much."

"You're welcome," she said. "Have a good day. Bye!" She then hung up.

I placed the phone down on the counter, then looked up at Harley, who was still glaring back at me, his arms folded. I wasn't sure what to say to him either. So, instead, I just kept staring at him, my mouth opened and still trying to absorb the phone call.

"Sooner or later you're going to have to tell me," Harley grunted, turning back around and continuing to cook the eggs.

"Um, I… well, she…" I stuttered, feeling flabbergasted. "May got my letter."

"So soon?" he wondered, his tone full of unsteadiness.

"She's back home in Petalburg City," I revealed. "But, I don't know why. As far as I know, she hasn't earned her last ribbon or anything."

"Maybe she's dying…"

"Harley!" I shouted, glaring at him. "That's _not _funny."

"Hmm, why? Worried it's true?"

Ignoring his comment, I managed to mutter, "I think I need to call her, but then she'll have your number."

"That might be a fun way to reveal this all to her," the man quipped, but I could tell he was completely serious. "Anyway, though, my number is public, but my name is blocked, so it doesn't matter one way or the other."

"Really?" I asked. "Or, are you just saying that so I will call her, and she _would _see your name?"

Harley laughed, shaking his head and turning off the stove. "No, darling, I'm telling the truth," he promised. "But, good for you for catching on to my possible lie." He laughed again, and I had to wonder why any of this was amusing to him.

I was silent for another long moment, watching as the man began placing an equal amount of eggs onto two plates. He was quiet as well, but finished making breakfast by toasting some bread and pouring some orange juice. Once he was all done with this, he brought the plates and drinks over and sat down next to me.

"I hope everything's okay," I quietly said to myself. "She must've received my letter today. I mean, Petalburg and Slateport aren't that far away from each other."

Harley began eating his breakfast and shrugged. "Well, I'm sure everything's fine, dear. She's probably just too lazy to write a letter."

I managed to chuckle a little bit. "That might be true," I unveiled. "She never liked writing." And, minimally cheered up, I picked up my fork and began eating the eggs, which were definitely delicious.

"If you'd feel better about it, you can call her from a payphone," the man offered.

I shook my head. "No, I believe you about the blocked name," I admitted. "I just hope she doesn't ask where I'm staying. I won't know what to say."

"Just tell her at a hotel," Harley suggested. "It's not that unbelievable. You lied about getting a ticket here from a friend."

"Not really. _You're _my friend."

"Pah!" he scoffed. "I won't even bother making a snide remark on that one."

I pursed my lips, staying silent. Harley and I finished eating after a while, and I washed down my breakfast with the orange juice, which I suspected might already have been expired. I said nothing though and wiped my mouth afterwards.

"Thanks," I said, smiling at Harley a little. "You're a fantastic cook. Which I'm sure you already know."

"Indeed!" the man shouted, beaming proudly and kissing my neck. He stood and began cleaning up, scraping off excess food into the garbage and then placing all the dishes into the dishwasher.

As he cleaned, I sat there, wondering whether I should call May now. But, what would I say? What would she say? I sighed heavily and looked up to Harley then back to the phone, still lying on the counter. It literally _scared _me to pick up the phone and dial my home number, just knowing that I would be talking to my sister. I still remembered her voice so well, and I knew it wouldn't surprise me to hear it again.

Bracing myself, I finally voiced, "Maybe I should just get it out of the way."

Still cleaning, the man said, "Then go on ahead." I could hear disinterest in his tone.

I picked up the phone and began dialing, _so very _grateful that this wasn't a videophone. I pressed the speaker up to my ear, hearing the ringing over and over. Then, I heard someone pick up, and it only a second later that I heard her voice.

"Hello?" she answered, curiosity and hope in her tone all at the same time.

Harley looked over his shoulder as he cleaned, still wearing his apron. I gulped, unable to speak. I closed my eyes, exhaling deeply and finally responding, "H-hi, May."

Harley turned away.

"Max!" came the voice on the other end, _her voice._ "Oh, Max! It's so good to hear you!"

I pursed my lips once again, almost feeling a blush rise in my cheeks. "Yeah, May, it's good to hear you, too."

"I got your letter this morning," she happily announced. "How'd you know to send it here?"

"Oh, I wasn't sure where you were in the Orange Islands, so I figured Mom and Dad could just forward it to you."

"Well, I'm back home now, and that's _sort of _why I decided to call you instead of write," she went on, and I sensed something in her voice, as if she was hinting at something else. "See, I just earned my fifth ribbon, and even though the Grand Festival is coming up in a just a few weeks, I had to come home, because Mom and Dad had to leave Petalburg."

"Huh? Why?" I asked, boggled. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no," May assured me. "It's actually quite similar to your situation with Clair in Blackthorn City."

"What do you mean?" I asked, keeping my eyes on Harley as he seemed to be pacing the kitchen, cleaning up various things.

"Dad needed to attend a conference in Viridian City, and Mom went with him. They had no one to look after the Gym who was qualified to take on the role as substitute Gym Leader, so… they asked me."

Dumbfounded, I could do nothing but gap several times, staying silent and suffering in a clouded and hazed mind. May called my name, wondering if I was still there, and I managed to recover, stuttering, "Yes, yes, I'm here." Then, I inquired, "What do you mean they _asked you_? You're filling in for Dad?"

"Um, well, yes," she answered, obviously uncomfortable. "I think they only let me because I won the Grand Festival last year, otherwise I could never see Dad agreeing to it!" She gave a nervous laugh, trying to calm my obvious jealousy and anger.

And, really, what right didn't I have to be upset? May didn't want to be a Gym Leader! She never even _battled _a Gym Leader. I was the one who earned all eight badges in Hoenn, participated in the League there, and now, I was on my way to entering the Johto League! Why did _she _get to fill in? Was she even technically allowed to do so? I was absolutely, 100 percent enraged.

"Max…" she eventually murmured.

"I'm here," I told her bitterly. "So, why'd you call me again?"

"Max," she softly said, "don't get like that, please. I'm not trying to rub it in your face—_you know that!_—I'm calling you because I need a favor."

"What?" I demanded, trying to control the anger in my voice.

I noticed Harley was looking at me again, slightly pleased with the tone I was giving May and also very, very curious about what was going on in the conversation. I'm sure he was fighting back the urge to grab the phone and shout into the speaker everything we had done together in less than a minute. I almost _wanted _him to, because at the moment, I was so upset with May and Dad and Mom that I wanted them to feel horrified about something.

"In your letter," she began, "you said you were holding off battling in Blackthorn until Clair returned, so I figured that if you don't have anything else to do, then maybe you can come back home for a while, and help me out around the Gym. You know more about what to do here than myself."

Silence filled both ends on the phone. She was done talking, and I knew she understood the shock I suddenly was feeling. My anger diminished quickly, but, again, I had no idea what to say to her. Was she being serious? Did she really want me to come back home and help out as she substituted as Gym Leader? Yet, it wasn't excitement I was feeling, it was actually _confusion. _She wanted me to leave Slateport, come help her, and… and… leave Harley. Of course, she didn't know the latter is what I'd be doing, but it _was _what I'd have to do.

"Max?" she called out. Again.

"Sorry, I'm still here," I quickly apologized. "May, uh, you know I'm in Slateport, right?"

Harley tilted his head, and I knew he was half-wondering whether I was about to reveal anything about him, which, of course, I wasn't. He was crazy to think that I actually would right now.

"Yes, I read that," she replied, and I knew she was nodding her head, even though I couldn't see her.

"Well," I explained, "I just got here, and I'm having a good time, and I don't know if I really want to leave."

I watched as Harley's expression flattened. I swear the color drained from his face, too, and I was definitely shocked to be able to witness this reaction on Harley. Unable to bear the look, I turned around, facing the living room and staring down at my feet.

"Yeah, I'm sorry to just drop the bomb like this, and I know kicking back and focusing strictly on your training must be really good for you. But, Max, whatever you're doing there, you can do here, too. You can train all you want. The two of us can battle, even!"

I knew that if Harley was able to hear, he would've laughed like a lunatic at May's comment about doing there what I was doing here. Obviously that wasn't _quite _true, and I felt a bit perverted for thinking that way. Harley certainly had tainted my mind, I supposed.

"How were the Orange Islands?" I then asked, changing the subject completely.

"Oh, fine," she responded brightly. "It was really beautiful there, and the Contests were just amazing. I just hated that I constantly had to go from one island to another on boat. It became very tiring after a while, you know?" She laughed in her cute little way, obviously thinking back to specific memory.

"Guess who I ran into," I then said.

"Who?"

"Misty," I revealed. "She was on the ship I took to Slateport. She's still the Leader in Cerulean, and she's _really _strong. We battled, and uh, well, she won."

"Really?" May wondered with excitement. "That's fabulous! Well, not that you lost, but that you ran into her." She laughed again.

"Yeah," I decided to say dully. "Anyway, May, I just need to think this whole thing over, okay?"

"Oh…" May voiced, obviously perplexed as to why I would be making such a big deal out of whether or not to come back home. "Well, okay, Max. Where are you staying, by the way?"

"Um, a hotel."

"A hotel?" she repeated. "Where'd you get the money for _that_?"

"Uh… I saved up," I lied, and I felt as though it was an incredibly obvious fib, too.

"Oh," she simply said. "Okay, well, call me soon, okay? As much as I hate to admit it, I _do _need you here."

"Why? Where's Kenny?" I wondered.

"He's here," May revealed, "but, it's more about, well, needing support, Max."

"Support?"

"Yes," she admitted. "It's not exactly easy doing this, and maybe this can be a way of, you know, bonding."

"I'll think about it," I repeated. "I'll talk to you later."

"Okay, Max. Bye."

I hung up, and I was fairly positive I did so before her. I ended up standing and putting the phone back on the receiver before managing to turn and look at Harley. The man approached me, and knowing I needed some form of comfort, kneeled down and wrapped his arms around me, bringing me close. I was taken back by the sincerity of this: the way he stroked my hair, the way his lips hovered under my chin, and the way his other arm rubbed up and down my back.

"Well, you're not upset because she found out, right? I'd imagine the conversation would've been more heated if she had." The man kissed me on the lips, long and fervent. "So, what'd the big, mean sister say this time?"

"My mom and dad left to go to Viridian City for some conference," I explained to him, "and they decided to let _May _take care of the Gym."

Harley looked pretty skeptical about what I was saying, but a moment later, he realized I was indeed telling the truth. "Why would they let _her _and not you?"

Honestly, I was glad he said this. It made me feel less arrogant for having felt that I was more worthy of taking Dad's place than May.

"I don't know," I finally replied, "but, she wants me to help her."

"Ah, and she must not have much pride for admitting that she can't handle the duty," Harley jeered, smirking. "Why doesn't she call her lover boy, Drew? I'm sure he'd be happy to help, maybe even get another shot at getting into her pants."

"She told me she wanted to bond, too," I further revealed. "Can you believe that? She actually said _bond._"

Harley laughed. "Goodness! Well, maybe you should go. You wouldn't want to miss _bonding _with your _loving_ sister!" He lifted my chin, looking at me thoughtfully. "Or, maybe you can take me along, and we can dig a grave for her with the truth about what you've been doing in Slateport."

I wasn't amused by his comment. But, I had no idea what I was supposed to say at all. I had no idea what I was supposed to do about _this situation. _And, finally just not knowing what to do at the very moment, I just relaxed into Harley's embrace, pressing against the man's chest and exhaling deeply. Harley immediately began rubbing my back again and then kissed my neck, like he always did.

"Darling, you're okay," he coaxed. "Don't let her get to you."

"But, it's not that, Harley!" I suddenly shouted, backing up. "She _wants me there_! She admitted that, and I'd be an awful person not to go!"

Harley rose an eyebrow. "Well, maybe Drew told her about us, and she's just being sneaky and wanting you to come there to get away from me without _really _telling you why." He chuckled at his scenario. "Truthfully, Max, why should you bother? It's her problem for not knowing what to do."

"She could be right though—this _could _be a good way build our relationship up again."

Harley's smile faded, and he pursed his lips in a frustrated and disapproving way. Apparently still thinking this was all nonsense, he snaked an arm around my hips and pulled me close all over again. "Well, too bad for you both, because you're not leaving _moi._"

I pulled away _again_, a bit angrier. "Harley, _I'm being serious_. I think I might need to consider visiting her." I gave a small shrug. "And, maybe _you can_ come."

But, Harley just glared at me. He stood up, dusting off his knees and putting his hands directly on his hips. "And then what, Max? You're going to tell her? Or, are you just going to hide me away somewhere and lie to her about everything?"

"No, Harley," I argued, unsure about his temper, "I'm not planning anything like that. I just don't feel right rejecting May about something like this. I mean, she admitted something she didn't have to admit, and I feel obligated to help her out."

"Then what, Max?" he repeated. "You go back and what happens then?"

I shrugged helplessly. "I should've asked her when Mom and Dad would be back," I quietly stated.

"You're not leaving, Max."

My eyes shot back up to his gaze. "_Excuse me_?" I demanded, giving him the most dumbfounded look. He hadn't even said it as a question or an opinion or anything like that. He said it as an order. "You don't have the right to tell me that."

"What the _hell _are you going to do there, Max?" he harshly inquired, suddenly raising his voice. "Dust? Wash clothes? Sweep? You sure as hell aren't going to have the kind of fun we have unless you plan on fucking _her_."

"Harley!" I shouted, glaring at him. "Why don't you understand what I'm saying! This doesn't even have anything to do with you!"

"The hell it does," he seethed. "You're _mine, _Max. I've told you that already. I won't let you return to her just so she can mess with your head again. You belong with me!"

"Stop being so obsessive! It's not like that with May! She's my sister!"

"How can it not be like _that_ when you were so passionately convinced to have been fucking her just a few days ago?" he yelled.

"Don't you dare rub that in my face, Harley! You agreed to it, too!"

"And, _I _had to hear you moan her name instead of mine. And you dared to call _me _sleazy once upon a time?"

I couldn't believe Harley's words. I was speechless. It suddenly slapped me in the face that we were having a fight, that Harley was yelling at me and I was yelling back. He was _ordering _me to stay with him, claiming that I was his and I had no right to visit May. What couldn't he understand? Why was he making such a big deal out of this when it had nothing to do with him in the first place? I didn't want to visit May so I could replace Harley; I just wanted to _help _her. Why was that wrong, and why did it bother Harley so much?

Moreover, I simply could not believe the look on Harley's face. There was such a sincere anger there—he looked angrier than I had ever seen him with May or Drew or anyone. And, he was looking at _me _that way. The way he was fuming with all sorts of emotions made me realize how possessive he was actually getting, and I had a fear that if I said anything more, he might actually _hurt me. _And, so, I stayed silent, watching as the man continued to scowl.

xxxxx

_-Harley-_

I stood there waiting for a response that simply would not come. He looked pathetic, just staring down at his feet with his bottom lip pushed out in a pout. He was trying to calm himself, but I remained just as furious at the boy and his fucking trollop of a sister and his goddamn stupid family.

What a fucking damnation this all was! He was not going back to Petalburg. He just _was not. _What the _hell _was wrong with me for even allowing that boy to send his sister a letter? I should've stopped him! That way _she _would've never known where Max was and therefore couldn't contact him. And, I couldn't help but blame Drew especially for all of this. He was the one who made the final push for Max to contact that girl, and dammit, why did I enter that Contest and have to run into that stupid prep?

Then again, that prep probably had to deal with May's obsession with Max the same I was dealing with it vice versa. Drew had his suspicions about the two of them, and I was fairly positive it must have bothered him the same way it was bothering me now. Max could deny it all he wanted, but I _knew _there was something weird about him and his sister. Why else would he be so responsive when I dressed as her and we fucked? And, now, he denied wanting her at all? What complete and utter bullshit!

So enraged and bitter, I finally ordered, "Max, if you don't want to fuck your sister, then what do you want with her?"

Slowly, Max looked back up to me. His eyes were watery and his lip was still quivering as he tried his best to keep calm. Normally, a sight like this would've had me floored with desire and apologetic lust, but it did nothing for me now. I was too emotional to be swayed by his faunletism.

"I want to makeup with her," Max then replied. "I need my sister, Harley."

"You have me," I told him, clenching my fist and gritting my teeth.

"It's not the same…" he whispered. Then, shortly after, he said, "You wouldn't understand. You don't have any siblings."

"You get _everything_ from me!" I shouted. "_Everything_! You don't need _her_!"

"No…" he argued sadly, turning away. "No, I don't get everything. I don't get _that bond, _the one I had with May all those years ago. And, I've never been the same since. I thought I was over it, but I'm not. It still hurts, and I _need _to get past it."

He began crying. Actually crying! I had never seen this before. I had seen tears in his eyes, but they _never_ fell. Now, witnessing the water slowly slide down his cheeks, falling beside his nose and meeting at his chin, I was left frozen. Embarrassed and ashamed, the boy turned away, his shoulders heaving with each sob. He stripped himself of his glasses, placing them down and just continuing to cry.

As much as I wanted to be unnerved by his tears, I wasn't. Max was still a faunlet, one whose each and every move was tainted by his impish charms. Sighing, I walked over to the boy and placed my hands on his shoulders. Instead of pressing into my touches like I thought and hoped he would, the boy ducked beneath my arms, walking away to the other side of the room. I was tempted to repeat my actions, but I was positive Max was going to do the same thing, and it was a game that surely could last the entire day.

"Max…" I called out, my voice finally stable and calm.

He said nothing to me. He just continued sobbing with his back towards me. I rolled my eyes, a bit annoyed now, but managed to approach him anyhow.

"Max," I repeated. For some reason that was I could manage to say.

Max whirled around, rage prominent in his eyes as he shouted, "_Shut up_!"

It was the first time he ever said that to me. It was just as bad as any swear coming out of his mouth. And I _hated _the way he looked when he said it: his brow creased, his mouth turned down and his pupils shaking. He was truly angry with me. And, sadly, I was truly angry with him.

"You can't tell me I'm not allowed to see my own sister," he managed to say between sobs.

"I'm pretty sure I have the right to tell you something, Max," I then grunted, some anger resurfacing. "You haven't spoken to her in how long, and now—_now—_she finally decides she wants to talk and you're so quick to choose her over me?"

"I'm not _choosing_ anyone!" the boy yelled. "She's my sister and you're—_you're_…"

"I'm what?"

"You two don't compare to one another," he decided to say, dropping his previous sentence.

I took a step forward, curious to see if he would back away. When he didn't, I took another step forward, a step at a time until I was directly in front of him, where I kneeled down again. After placing my hands on his shoulders, I looked at him seriously, still feeling rage inside me, but calm enough to trust myself around Max.

"I don't think it's healthy the way you're trying to control me right now," Max murmured softly. "I'm not trying to hurt you or anyone else." His crying ceased and he regained control of himself slightly.

"You're mine."

"Stop saying that."

"Why should I?" I questioned, sneering powerfully. "It's true, isn't it?"

Max shook his head. "No, Harley, it's not. Why would it be?"

"Because what we've done together is a whole lot more meaningful than anything you've done with _her, _and you know it!"

"Stop yelling," he told me, pursing his lips. "I didn't want it to be this complicated, Harley. I didn't expect you to act like this."

"I'm bloody upset, Max," I voiced. "And, why shouldn't I be? I didn't think that girl would ever take anything away from me again. And now look!"

"Are you comparing a loss of a Contest and a ribbon to _me_?" he demanded.

"I'm comparing how she took away what was _rightfully mine_ then and how she's doing the same now."

"She doesn't even know about us!" the boy hollered, backing away.

"I'm sure Drew told her."

"No!" Max yelled. "She's not manipulative enough to play out your scenario! May's not like that!"

"I sincerely doubt that she's as angelic and pure as you seem to think! She didn't just drop from the goddamn sky like a saint, and—!"

—and then I felt it.

Before I even saw it coming, the boy had bloody hit me. And more forceful beyond anything I could've ever expected from him, I fell backwards, right on my ass. Having already been on my knees, this wasn't that astonishing, but I was completely taken back by the strength he had put into the blow. I felt my lower chin, rubbing the burn out of the slap—or the punch or the _whatever_—and just gaping widely in confusion.

And, yet, I wasn't the least bit angry.

I was turned on.

I felt the heat in my body immediately rise, thinking about how forceful and strong Max had been, how the sting was still radiating off my chin and how the same burn must've been throbbing on his small hand. I looked at Max, who appeared so regretful of what he did that I was even more intrigued by the whole act. I pursed my lips, moistening them considerably before I reached forward, grabbing the boy's hand, which instantly made him stiffen in fear and uncertainty.

"Harley!" he yelped. "Harley, I'm sorry!"

Oh, but why was he apologizing?

I yanked him forward even more so, grabbing his hips and pressing myself against his small body. I forced my lips on his and pushed his head further into the liplock as I lowered the boy down onto my lap. Max was still as stiff as ever, completely unsure and afraid of what I was going to do. Soon, he began pushing me away, grunting and whimpering as I continued to keep our mouths fused.

"Mmmph!" he groaned into my mouth. He tugged and pulled and pushed, trying to get away.

I became more aggressive. I grabbed his arms and pushed him backwards, towering over him and pinning him onto the carpeted floor.

"Harley!" he shouted, trying to bat my arms away. "No, Harley! Get off!" He began squirming.

To still him, I pressed my knees down onto his thighs, eventually writhing my way between them. Max was horribly afraid beneath me, and he slapped my chest and neck and arms, trying so hard to just push me away as best he could. I decided that I wasn't going to play anymore. So, I fought back. I grabbed the boy's arms, twisting them and digging my long nails directly into his lithe wrists. Max then gasped, feeling my hard erection press into his lower body. He was certainly not expecting this.

I used one hand to continue pressing one of his arms down, using my free one to unzip and pull down his shorts and undies. Max calmed down just a bit, but otherwise remained squirming, possibly so I would loosen my grip on his wrist. His cock was already somewhat hard, and I only heightened his developing desire by enveloping his length in my hand, stroking and fondling as I finally let go of his wrist and began using my hand to undo my own pants.

"_Harley_—Harley, wait!" the boy begged, stilling me by the shoulders.

I looked down at him considerably and tilted my head for a moment. But, I continued on, shaking off my pants and letting them fall to my ankles. Max writhed, turning his head and making a noise in the back of his throat, half-pleasure, half-fear. He knew I wasn't going to stop.

Pushing up the boy's legs and linking my arms underneath each crook, I was quick to prepare myself with a weak spit onto my left hand. I moistened my cock and spread the boy's legs further, moving forward without giving the boy time to prepare. He shut his eyes the moment I began pressing into him, letting out an involuntary grunt of pain and still turning away with his eyes shut. Almost as payback for his refusal to look at me, I wasted no time sheathing myself fully into the boy. _Ohh, _and I knew it hurt him. The lack of preparation was hurting me, too. But, I didn't care.

Max pursed his lips, silencing a cry as I began thrusting into him, a bit slow, but quick to pick up the pace. I pushed in and out at a terribly aching speed. Beneath me, the boy threw his arms up, linking them around my shoulders and bringing me closer. I appreciated this and returned his sentiment with a soft kiss on his shaking lips. The stiffness loosened in the boy, finally seeming to relax.

"Max," I whispered, lowering my head and aligning my mouth near the boy's ear, "you're mine… _mine._"

"Harley…" he softly replied, so fragile sounding.

As Max allowed himself to fully relax, obviously unsure what else to do other than stay still, I slid a hand underneath his shirt, feeling around his cold chest. My hand, warm and heated, stung against his lifeless temperature, but the sudden sensation of my ministrations produced a gentle moan from Max. I leaned down again, colliding our lips, and he lolled back his head in an exceptional way, quivering his lips, but this time, in stifled down pleasure.

"Remember what I told you?" I breathed unsteadily, pumping in and out of his body. "I told you I'd go mad without you. Oh, darling, I believe it's true. Because you're just everything I need, _everything._"

I tightened my grip on his legs, driving myself deep into his body and pulling myself out just enough so I could slide back in with amazing force. Max cried out, shouting my name and thrusting up to meet me as I rutted hard and deep into him. I kissed him deeply, pressing my tongue through his lips and slipping it into his hot, wet mouth.

"Mm, Harley," he sang out, responding remarkably as I decided to once again enclose my palm around his aching hardness. He shut his eyes, exhaling deeply before rising his hips into every one of my strokes. Then, with much more volume, he shouted, "_Harley_!"

With a few more powerful thrusts, I felt myself grow weak. It wasn't long before I came, climaxing into the boy's body, and moments later, feeling Max reach his peak, too, directly in my hand. Exhausted, more so than I had felt in a while, I pulled myself out of him, letting out a long and tired sigh that seemed to go on for ages.

Still on his back, Max closed his eyes momentarily, then sat up, reaching forward and bringing me into a very demanding embrace. I encircled my arms around the boy, too, kissing the top of his head many times. I wondered, vaguely, if he was in a high amount of pain as I had failed—once again, really—to prepare either of us properly for this shag. But, he felt so trusting against me, and I knew that he must have gotten over my beginning cruelty. Besides, now in a calmer state of mind, I realized that no matter how demanding I could be, I could never take this boy by full force.

"Maximus," I called out, running one hand through his hair, "don't you see why this is affecting me so negatively? There's no one else like you." My other hand, still wet from his climax, was brought to my mouth, and I slowly licked the fluid off and forced him to watch.

Max watched curiously as I lapped my tongue between my fingers, licking up his come. He seemed less disgusted than last time, but still pretty grossed out that I would be doing this. Max obviously had no interest in the taste like I did, since both times he had taken my cock in his mouth, he seemed so hesitant to actually swallow my seed. I wiped the rest elsewhere then gave Max a very distinct look, trying to keep him calm as I kissed him deeply, holding back his head so I could extend my tongue into his mouth and feel around his warm, welcoming walls.

The boy eventually ended the kiss, pulling away and giving me a very melancholy stare. "Harley," he began softly, "I love you."

This I was not expecting. At least not right now. I stared at him for a moment, wondering whether or not I had heard right. But, the look on his face was sincere and focused, and I realized he had indeed said this to me once again. I gave him a smile back, stroking his hair and pulling him into another hug.

"Then, Max, I think the answer is quite clear," I explained to him. "You simply cannot leave."

A bit frustrated, the boy sighed, but still remained close to me. "W-what… what if I did, Harley?" He then added, "And don't tell me you'd go mad, because you're just lying."

"You think I'm _lying_?" I asked. "Maximus, I'm surely not. Who else would be around to pamper and dote and fuck? No one! At least, no one like you."

"Well, I don't want to leave," he soon admitted. "I don't. But, I can't ignore May. She needs me, too, and I have to do something about that."

"Taking me with you wouldn't be a bad idea," I suggested once more. "Who knows! Maybe she'd come around and see that I'm not some monstrous pedophile."

"If it were that easy I don't think we would've ended up fighting," the boy pointed out. He then reached out, his small fingers grazing where he had hit me. "I'm sorry for doing that."

I rubbed his back, trying to ensure him it was all right. "Don't worry about it, darling," I voiced merrily. "I did, once upon a time, ask you to hit me unexpectedly. That was as unexpected as it gets. So, thank you." I kissed his hand when it neared my lips.

"Harley…?"

I tilted my head. "Yes?"

"Please don't make me have to choose. Just let this be easy."

I couldn't bear him hinting at wanting to leave. So, I looked at him with a jovial grin, pressing my mouth against the side of his nose, playfully. "I love you," I chuckled into his skin. "Very much at that."

There was something very farce about why I had decided to say this to him though. I wanted the conversation over, and I knew this was the only way I could get him stop talking. It was cruel, really, but it wasn't as though my words weren't true. Obviously they were and that was why I having such a hard fucking time with Max's revelation. Thankfully, I felt Max close his eyes, and I knew he had decided to drop the conversation, too. It was silly, really, because we'd have to discuss the inevitable sooner or later.

A moment or two later, I gently pushed Max off my lap, urging him to stand. I did the same, readjusting my pants and buckling the belt again. Max pulled back up his shorts and flattened out his shirt. I stood there, looking down at Max, who was staring up at me in return. I reached down, stroking his cheek with a single finger and trying my best to smile.

"Let's go outside," I suddenly suggested. I grabbed the boy's arm, pulling him to the sliding glass door and opening it quickly. "I need some air."

Both Max and I sat down on the cushioned bench, much like the first morning we had spent back here. The air was grainy and dull, the aftereffects of the hard rain from yesterday and this morning. It was actually quite cold as well, but I ignored it, simply sitting there, crossing my legs and leaning back. For one of the first times ever, there was a rather large space between Max and I, and I realized the boy was being distant, either afraid or just not in the mood to be near me.

But I simply did not like how uncomfortable the atmosphere felt. It almost reminded me when Max and I were first getting to know each other and how frigid and uneasy he would be the entire time.

"Harley," he voiced softly, looking forward at the beach shore, which was entirely damp and almost muddy looking. After a short pause, he managed to slowly look my way, still comfortless. "You know what I think?"

I rose an eyebrow, and replied, "No. What, dear?"

"I think that lately everything's been happening at a very coincidental time," he explained to me. "And, usually, that only happens when you finally feel like everything around you makes sense."

I wasn't sure what the boy was getting at, but it disturbed me a little. As he began looking back at the shore, I wondered if he really could see anything at all since he was not wearing his glasses. I reached out, touching the nape of the boy's neck and inviting him to come closer to me. Max balked though, and it took me several more strokes of my hand to finally get him to agree to slide toward me. I wrapped a lengthy arm around his shoulders and began rubbing his arm.

"I don't think I'm going to call May back today," he then revealed.

"That's good to know," I muttered, rolling my eyes away from his view. "Maybe now we can enjoy the rest of the day."

"But, I'll call her tomorrow," Max quickly said. "I'll ask her how long Mom and Dad are going to be away. Maybe it won't be for that long and then I either won't go or I won't have be gone too long."

"Max," I said, holding out my hand and looking at my nails just to busy myself, "who do you love more: May or me?"

I felt the boy go stiff under my embrace. It was an unfair question—I knew that!—but I had a right to know who came first to the boy now that he had me in his life.

"Well?" I asked after a long gap of silence.

"I can't answer that," he told me weakly.

"Why not?"

"You know why, Harley," the boy said. "It amazes me that a grown man like you would ask such silly things!"

"I'm curious, that's all," I grunted out.

His answer had not settled anything for me. Honestly, I very well should've been top priority as I had given Max everything he needed, had taught him so many things and had been first one to ever fuck him. Oh, yes, it was true. Even if his sister took him away from me—took, once again, something that should've been mine—then at least I was the one and only person to know what his first time was like. Max and I shared that. And, he shared it with no one else.

**End of Part Eleven**


	12. Part Twelve

**Part Twelve**

_-Harley-_

I added two glasses of orange juice to the wooden tray before me, finishing off what would be the breakfast meal for the day. Having woken up early, I decided it was best to cook up something delightful for a morning feast. There were eggs, hash browns, and finally, pancakes, all of which looked just as pleasing as they surely would taste. I expected Maximus to feel quite the same, especially since I had gone through with all of this work for him as I knew he appreciated being pampered with a scrumptious meal after just being awoken.

For the rest of the afternoon yesterday, Max and I had done positively nothing. Even if the weather had been nice, I doubted we would've gone to that stupid carnival since his sister's little phone call had certainly ruined the entire day. Although I was still feeling quite upset about the whole situation, I had calmed down for the most part. I was going to try and keep Max from calling her today with the hope that perhaps he would just let it go, or, even better, realize that he was wasting his time since it was painfully obvious _I _was the one and only choice here.

I carefully sauntered up the staircase, reaching the top and wandering over to my bedroom, where Max was still sleeping. The two of us hadn't even had a good shag before going to sleep, and that was a definite sign of how badly his goddamn sister screwed up our day. Today was going to be different though. I was not going to let anything involving _her _bother me. Besides, even the weather was pleasant: sunny, warm, clear and just a bit of breeze to cool the temperature down. Perhaps I could persuade the boy to go out and swim again. _Oh yes, _that would make the day fabulous.

When I walked into the room, I saw that Maximus was actually sitting up, just having awoke. He was yawning, stretching tiredly and looking around. He caught my glance as I approached the bed, all the meanwhile, keeping a large grin on my face. I climbed onto the bed, using my knees to travel to the boy. I set the tray down on the bed then moved forward and kissed Max directly on the mouth. He was taken back and did not respond until I pressed my hand on his knee, leaning more into the liplock.

I pulled away and moved some hair out from my face as I presented him with one of the plates of food. "For you, darling," I said.

Max took the plate, examining the food for a moment. "Looks great," he noted happily. "Thank you!"

As Max was busy eating his food, I picked at my own, a smaller amount since I wasn't that hungry. The boy's hair was an absolute mess this morning, so I combed it out with my fingers, flattening it down and getting some of the nattiness out. _Christ, _he looked so adorable. He was so small and innocent and exquisite and it became more obvious than ever before that there was no one else like him in this world.

"Stop looking at me like that," the boy demanded, but he said it with amusement.

"Sorry, Maximus, but you do realize you look positively precious this morning, don't you?"

"No," he answered, shrugging his shoulders as he chewed down some eggs. "You look really tired though."

"Oh?" I wondered. "Well, it's not a surprise. Yesterday was stressful on me."

Max stayed silent. We both finished eating several minutes later, and I promptly removed the tray from the bed, setting it on the floor peacefully. Max was about to get out of bed, possibly to go wash up, but I stopped him, pinning him down gently and capturing his mouth on mine. I was pretty sure Max expected this, too, because he instantly responded, even going through with wrapping his arms around me.

"I am sorry about yesterday, Harley," the boy whispered, kissing me on the chin.

I pushed the boy up a little then reached out and urged his legs around my hips. As he clung to me, I stamped several kisses along his arm, reaching his neck and sucking on the skin there.

"I think I need to call May now," he then said.

I froze, pulling away from the boy and staring down at him. "Why?" I demanded.

"Because I need to know how long Mom and Dad are going to be gone," he explained to me. "It will only take a second, Harley."

"Later," I told him. I pushed myself against him and began sliding my hand underneath his shirt. Last night was basically the first time the two of us had slept in any clothing, but I was ready to strip him of his attire now. "Right now, I need to ravish my darling, Maximus."

The boy sighed beneath me. "It will only take a second," he repeated, pushing me away.

"So will this."

"No, it won't!" the boy argued, and he used more force to push at me.

I raised an eyebrow at the boy. "What's wrong with you?" I asked hastily.

"I just want to call May."

"Don't say her name to me." And, I meant this. I did not want to hear her fucking name right now.

"_What_?" the boy confusedly exclaimed.

"I said do not say her name to me, Max," I reaffirmed. And, now upset myself, I climbed off the boy, sitting properly and glaring at him.

Max reached for his glasses and put them on. I think he was trying to get a better look at my expression, which was definitely just as threatening as my words. This caused him to narrow his eyes. Then, after a moment, he got out of bed, walking out of the room and down the hall. I didn't try to stop him either.

Annoyed, I got up a moment later and brought the tray downstairs. As I cleaned off the dishes and stuck them in the washer I heard Max slowly walking down the stairs, having spent a good ten or so minutes upstairs, possibly collecting his thoughts. I chose to ignore him for the most part, simply cleaning up around the kitchen, but when I was through, I walked back into the living room, where he was pathetically sitting there, on the couch, looking glum and lonely. He also seemed apologetic.

"Harley…" he called out.

Not wanting to hear yet another apology from the boy, I walked over to the phone, grabbing it and throwing it in Max's direction. "Call her," I said.

Max furrowed his brow, looking back and forth between the phone and me. I widened my eyes, emphasizing that I was being serious. I then folded my arms, leaning against the breakfast counter and waiting for him to start dialing once he picked up the phone. I think, for the most part, he was very intimidated by my presence, and I hoped that would help fuck up his conversation with his sister. Besides, if I felt like it, I could grab the phone from him and say whatever I felt like to her.

"Fine," Max eventually replied. He then began dialing the number.

As he waited for a ring, I grabbed my cigarettes that rested on the counter. Just as I began flicking my lighter to life, Max seemed to perk up, and I knew his sister had answered, most likely with a pathetically stupid, "He_eeeee_llo!"

"Hi, May," the boy said, narrowing his eyes so he wouldn't be tempted to look at me. After waiting for his sister to stop talking, he said, "Yeah, I'm fine. I just woke up."

_Ugh, _and if only she knew Max had chosen to call her over getting a nice, early morning shag. Jeesh, who rejected that for a fucking phone call?

"I don't know, May," he then stated. "I kind of want to stay in Slateport."

My anger went down a little bit. Maybe it was because I was smoking and that always calmed my nerves, or maybe, his comment actually did affect me. It was, after all, rather sweet. And, besides, it did make me realize—on some level, anyway—that if it _weren't for me, _Max probably would've already left to go back home. I actually was keeping him from making a final decision, and therefore, I meant _something _to him.

"Nothing," he answered, a bit quickly and suspiciously. I suspected that May asked what he was doing in the city. "Listen, um, when are Mom and Dad going to be home?"

I idly sucked in some fumes while I sat on the stool behind me, eager to get more comfortable. Max was busy listening to whatever the trollop was saying, and I simply couldn't help but find amusement in how deadpanned the boy looked now as opposed to so many more memorable moments with _moi._

"Why… why so long, May?"

This caused me to become curious. Long? I hoped to bloody God that he didn't mean his parents were going to be away for a while. Oh, _fuck,_ it better not have meant that.

"They never mentioned that to me though," he went on, seeming very despondent. A moment later, he said, "What if I don't?"

I found myself narrowing my own eyes. I did not like where his conversation was going. Not at all.

"May, I… I don't know if I can. I mean, _I want to, _but it's sort of complicated."

I swore I could hear the trollop asking, "_How so_?" in her stupid, squeaky voice.

"Well," the boy began, "it's nice here, and I am training—"

Max stopped mid-sentence, obviously interrupted. I witnessed his mouth drop open and his brow furrow. He gaped several times, repeatedly trying to collect his thoughts and say something.

"Why would you do that?" he asked, almost angrily. "I haven't even agreed to come, May."

Again, I almost heard the girl's voice, pleading for him to calm down or something like that. She was pathetic. I knew it without having to really _know _what she was saying to him.

"Well," Max continued, "how long do you actually think I'll be there? I have to go back to Johto so I can challenge Clair. That'll be in a couple of weeks."

Much more eagerly, I inhaled some smoke, letting some enter my lungs and letting the rest escape into the air. It was very quiet in the living room, and for the first time, I actually _could hear _the girl's voice coming from the phone. It was static and rough sounding through the phone, but it was definitely her. I rolled my eyes.

"It's almost like you're forcing me, May," he sadly said to her. "But, okay, whatever. I'll think about it some more. Bye." He hung up quickly, obviously a bit upset. However, unlike what I was expecting, he did not look up to me. I suspected he wanted my comfort, but thought I was not going to supply him any since I was irate.

But, my affection for the boy made me want to comfort him. So, I stood up, extinguishing the cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table, and soon, making my way over to the boy. I sat next to him on the couch, wrapping an arm around his lithe body and embracing him. His _body _felt sad, and I wasn't even sure how that was humanly possible.

"Harley," he voiced, almost in a whimper, "she said she bought me a ship ticket."

Surprised, I pulled away a little, just to get a look at the boy's sullen face. "A ship ticket?" I echoed. "You mean, _to Petalburg_?"

"Yeah," he answered, "and, to me, that feels like she's _forcing me _to come home."

"Seems for once we agree," I noted bitterly. "So, did she say how long Norman and what's-her-name were going to be off wherever?"

"She said the conference is a week long, but they want to stay in Kanto for a while," the boy told me, obviously mulling over whether or not that really _was true. _"I guess Dad does deserve some time off. I don't think he's ever left the Gym for longer than a day though."

"Everyone needs a vacation once and a while," I shrugged out. "I don't find it bizarre that even your father would want one. He seems like a very overworked man anyway!" I grinned at Maximus as I ran my hands through his hair.

"She asked me what I was doing here," he revealed to me, almost laughing between words. "There honestly was a part of me that wanted to tell the truth."

I smiled distantly at this. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah," the boy confirmed again. "Maybe then she would've gotten upset and not want me to come anymore."

"So, why didn't you tell her?" I asked, furrowing my brow deeply.

"Because, Harley, I don't know whether or not I'm going," he dully explained. "She said I could pick up my ticket at the harbor if I decide to go."

"I see," I decided to say. "And, let's say, you did go, Maximus. Then what would you do after you good deed was done?"

"It depends," Max said. "It depends on how long I'll be there. I might go back to Johto and battle Clair, or I might come back here."

"Who says I'll be waiting?" I asked cruelly. I bit my bottom lip, giving him a grimace. "What you want to do, basically, is gallop off, visit your sister and then come back and expect everything to be fine with _me._"

"Why shouldn't it be, Harley?" he wondered, frowning. "It's not as if I'm going off and visiting someone like, _you know,_ and having an affair or something."

"It is to _me_!" I barked, standing up suddenly. I looked down at him, glaring. "You know how I feel about her."

Max sighed heavily. He stood up, too, and carefully approached me. "I wouldn't do anything with her," he told me. "Harley, I wouldn't. She's not you. _No one _is you." The boy then reached out, touching my arm weakly.

I kneeled down, slightly pushing into his touch before leaning forward and kissing him. He was just as eager, and it showed through the way his arms encircled me and the way he lifted his legs, basically climbing into my arms. I gladly picked the boy up, taking him in my arms and continuing to mash our mouths together. I moaned deeply, turning my head and letting my tongue slide in so I could explore his heated mouth.

"You need to promise me that, Max," I softly lamented.

"Harley…" the boy called out, puzzled.

I don't think he realized how much this was getting to me, how much I did, in fact, _need _that promise. How could I trust him around _her_? How? How? Everything that girl had done to me—taken away so many ribbons, so many championships—and now _this_: she was taking Max away from me. I thought she was out of the picture for good. If it weren't for their scrabble in the first place, perhaps I wouldn't have been given the opportunity to bond with Max. If the two of them had been close throughout these entire years, Max would've kept his distance from me, feeling the same way about me that he had all those years ago. But, _no. _When we met in Goldenrod, Max and his sister were still on bad terms and that had been a contribution to what started our relationship.

"I love _you_, Harley, _you_," he then admitted, hugging me tightly as I continued to hold him.

"But, you love her, too," I pointed out, speaking into his neck.

"Not in the same way!"

"But, I don't trust _her_," I seethed.

Basically, Max decided it would be best to shut me up. He fused our lips and fused them hard, pressing deeply and ensuring I responded with as much passion as he was creating. I sucked on his bottom lip. I ran my fingers through his hair. I held his hips tightly. And, sooner or later, I felt my legs moving, bringing him upstairs where I could ravish the hell out of him, have him the way I never wanted another person to ever experience for all their miserable lives.

Max was mine. I didn't care if he denied it.

xxxxx

_-Max-_

Harley's hands were groping at my shirt, pulling it off me and working their way to undoing my shorts. I closed my eyes, concentrating on his touches as I felt the bed sheets against my bare back, soft and silky. I then decided to remove my glasses, placing them elsewhere as the man pulled off my lower attire, stripping me completely and beginning to take off his own clothing. I helped him with his black tank-top, then used my open-palmed hand to feel the man's warm, smooth chest, which made him emit a low moan. I could feel his erection beneath his pants, pressing against the fabric and causing me to purse my lips in desire.

He hovered over me, colliding our bodies and grating them considerably before stamping a single kiss on my chin and then pressing our lips together. I felt his hands on my hips, a firm grip that heightened when I leaned into his touch. Almost desperate to surprise and please the man, I reached out just as Harley finally pulled down his pants and enclosed my hand around his hardness. And, just as I suspected, the man let out an enthusiastic moan, allowing me to stroke him in my own unsure and messy way. Responding positively, I caressed him faster, causing him to grin widely and push down for a kiss on the lips.

Harley's hand traveled down my body, touching me just the same, but with more skill and inept. I wrapped one arm around him, bringing him closer before the man straightened his back, spreading my legs and moving between my thighs. I helped him by wrapping my legs around his waist, causing him to smile wantonly at me, both knowingly and mindfully. He put a hand to my mouth, urging me to wet it. I spit a considerably large amount of saliva into his palm, and he prepared himself before beginning to cautiously press into my entrance.

"Mm, Harley," I groaned, tightening my legs around him.

"Remember when I first did this?" he asked me, whispering into my ear. "You were so scared, oh yes, you were."

"Yes," I revealed, "I remember. And, it hurt a lot."

Harley grinned and gently bit my ear. "I should've just had my way with you from the start," he stated, but it was a tease and I wasn't threatened. After a moment, the man sheathed himself more into my body, stroking my hardness to calm me from the occasional burn.

"But, you didn't," I told him. "And, I still don't know why. It didn't even seem like you."

"You think?" he wondered, kissing my cheek. "What's the point of enjoying a shag with little Maximus when he's not responsive and willing, huh?"

I hadn't considered this. I guess Harley's sexual appetite wasn't as selfish as I sometimes thought. He wanted some form of consent from me, always. I smiled at this then pushed myself forward onto his erection, forcing him to fully penetrate me. In unison, the two of us let out a moan, and it didn't take long for Harley to create a pattern: pulling out of me, pushing back in, and making each of his driving thrusts as delightful as possible. I quickly gripped his shoulders, looping my arms beneath his underarms and embracing him firmly.

"Harley," I panted, feeling his hardness brush against the limits of my entrance and causing me to groan.

The man grinned, a mix of braze and happiness, and continued to push in and out of me, eventually moving his left hand near my face and stroking my hair fondly. I enticed him further, sliding forward with each thrust he gave and pulling myself up enough to kiss him on his shoulder and neck. I kept doing this, and somehow, I ended up directly in his lap, straddling his erection that was buried deep inside me. The man was definitely pleased and moved his hands to either sides of my body, directly on my hips to help me rise and lower myself onto his hardness.

"_Oh, Lord, _Maximus, you are such a delight," he sang out, thrusting up his hips in a heated frenzy.

I shut my eyes tightly, concentrating specifically on the way I collapsed my weight onto him, and sooner or later, linking my arms around his neck, adding to the pressure. Harley's mouth fused onto my shoulder blade, kissing me all the way up to my mouth and turning my head so he could allow his tongue entry. Our tongues slid against the other, exploring fervently as we thrust, up and down, in and out.

I felt Harley's nails dig into my shoulder, a clear sign he was growing weak. My own muscles tightened a moment later, and I excitedly called out his name as I climaxed onto his stomach. I shook in aftershock, causing Harley's carnal thrusts to increase until he reached completion, too, all the meanwhile, groaning out my name into my neck.

"Oh, _Maximus_," he happily slurred, kissing me endlessly on the neck. "Amazing. You. This. _Everything_." He stroked my hair for a moment, then reached down between our bodies, wiping off my climax from his stomach and chest.

I watched as he, once again, brought his hand to his mouth, licking off the fluid that wet his entire palm. The man was obviously teasing me. I frowned, causing him to chuckle. He kissed me, and I could taste myself on him very prominently.

After kissing him back, I tilted my head, admitting, "I was suspecting a bite this time around."

"Sorry to disappoint," he replied, and quickly, he leaned forward, giving me a quick nip on the neck.

Stinging more than I expected, I flinched, letting out a yelp. "Oww, Harley!" I yelled, pushing him away a little. I decided to sit up more, pulling him out of my body and allowing myself to lie backwards on the bed.

Harley followed suit, lying next to me, and as always, pulling me close. "Faunlet," he declared, kissing my forehead. "You know, Max, I'm full of ego-rising compliments for you, but I don't think I've ever heard you say something sweet to me."

"Uh, what do you _want _to hear?" I stuttered, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I already know I'm gorgeous and beautiful and handsome, but I'd like to hear it from your lips, darling," he stated.

I rolled my eyes. "Why, when you're so sure of it all yourself?" I challenged.

"_I just said_," he grunted. "Because I want to hear it from your lips."

"Fine, Harley," I said with a shrug. "I think you're handsome." I instantly felt color rise into my cheeks.

_Jeez, _I felt so retarded now. But, I did indeed think Harley was quite handsome. It didn't really seem like the proper word to call a man like him, who was so campy and effeminate, but I supposed it was the only word that worked for me. I didn't want to label him as "pretty" or anything, because it didn't seem right. I kept staring at him, trying to figure out if there was anything else I could say, and I then realized my comment might have seemed a bit farce.

"I do, Harley," I reaffirmed. "The more I think about, the more I realize it's true. You are, uh, handsome."

"I smell good, too."

"And, you accused _me _of getting a complex?" I demanded, half-amused. "You're ridiculous, I swear." I began laughing, pressing my face against the man's shoulder blade to calm myself.

Harley stroked my hair, allowing his fingers to trace deep, massaging my scalp a bit. His skin felt very warm, and I realized that the sun was beating into the room, shining all over and creating quite the warmth all around. I wondered if Harley was still interested in going to that carnival since we failed to go yesterday. I was still amused by his claim he didn't like heights, so it made me all the more eager to go and try and get him to go on the Ferris wheel with me. They so weren't scary, and even if _I _was afraid of heights, I couldn't see myself being scared of a Ferris wheel.

"What are you thinking about?" the man then asked.

"The carnival," I admitted. "Do you want to go still?"

"Still?" he echoed. "I don't even remember agreeing in the first place."

"Harley…" I said warningly. "It would be fun! Don't you want to win me something?"

"Oh, do _you _want me to win you something?"

I sat up a little, pulling on the man's arm. "Yeah," I said, knowing it might be the only thing that would encourage the man to get up. "So, come on."

I could tell Harley considered whether or not he wanted to reject me, and I could also tell he was thinking about the situation with May. He looked a little miserable, but I doubted anyone else could tell but me. I leaned back towards him, kissing the man quickly before returning to pulling his arm.

"Fine," he grunted. "But, does it have to be now, dear?"

"Of course it does!" I exclaimed. "We don't want to get there when it's all late and nothing's open anymore!" I smiled in a pleading sort of way.

Harley's eyes closed halfway, shooting a small glare at me. I could tell he wanted to argue more, but was definitely in agreement about going. Deciding not to continue debating, the man stated, "Well, as long as you don't get all prim and proper, like you tend to in public." He smirked, and soon, began searching for his clothing.

I managed to find all of mine, throwing everything on quickly and racing to the bathroom to wash up again, just so I would look proper. Eventually, Harley made his way into the bathroom, straightening up as well. When we were both through, we exited and went downstairs. I considered taking my bag with me, but thought against it. I wouldn't need my Pokémon at the carnival, and I sort of figured that there was nothing they could do there anyway. And, in a way, I wanted it just to be Harley and me, which seemed silly in a way. Regardless, I decided not to bring my bag, and sooner or later, Harley and I were out the door, on our way to the carnival.

We ended up walking towards the city, although I knew from the flyer that the carnival was actually near the Contest Hall, on top that big hill that overlooked the city. Instead of taking a normal, busy route, we eventually parted the normal path and walked behind the downtown area. After a couple of minutes, I spotted the hill far ahead of us, and it was completely covered with the carnival's rides, tents, stands, food courts, _everything. _It looked really colorful and fun, and I was more excited than ever to actually reach the event.

"What's the first thing you want to do?" I inquired, looking up to the man as we walked.

"Hmm," he said, pursing his lips. "Have a wank in the haunted house, perhaps?"

I scoffed in annoyance. "No, Harley, let's just do normal stuff, okay?" I suggested, furrowing my brow.

Harley muttered something, but I didn't catch anything coherent out of it. I suspected it was more about "normal stuff" being no fun, but I couldn't be sure. We stayed silent for the rest of the time walking, and on the way, the man put on his sunglasses and moved his long hair over his shoulder, possibly annoyed that he hadn't brought his hat with him. Truthfully, I was beginning to realize I liked Harley better without his hat. I thought he not only looked younger, but also seemed to have a whole different persona, one less threatening than his usual appearance.

Reaching nearer, we began walking up the steep hill, entering through the side of the carnival. There appeared to be no fee to get it, although I knew that hardly mattered since tickets for the rides and games would makeup for that. I wanted to offer paying for something myself, but I knew Harley would refuse my charity. Even though he had money and plenty of it, it _still _didn't feel right to let him continuously buy everything for me.

Lights shining and streamers floating, the entire carnival was a dazzling combination of every single color imaginable. The festival seemed to go on for acres, but that was a mirage of all the tall rides and booths that surrounded us. But, so far, as we walked, nothing was catching my attention. The rides here didn't look all that fun, and besides, I doubted Harley would be interested in any of those. It was a while before I spotted a food stand, which advertised cotton candy.

"Ah, here we go!" the man exclaimed for me. He changed directions, drifting over to the stand and taking a good look at the menu. "I think I want a blue one," he told me with a grin.

"Okay, then, I'll have a pink one," I informed him, still a bit surprised Harley would even be interested in _cotton candy._

Behind the counter, the worker handed us two prepared bags of cotton candy, one blue and one pink. After paying, we walked away, taking a seat at an empty bench, which was slightly littered with split soda, popcorn and corn dog sticks. The sight of the latter reminded me of when Harley and I were in Olivine, and he had challenged me to that incredibly embarrassing competition. Even now I remained embarrassed by it!

I ripped the plastic sheet covering the cotton candy, taking it by the handle and examining the fluffy, colorful treat. Harley was already picking at his, eating the sugary snack in an overly polite way.

"I think the last time I was at a bloody carnival was when I was ten, Maximus," he told me. "I suppose this is a perk—amongst many, many others!—about having a delightfully young and sweet faunlet all to myself: you make me feel young again!"

"I've been to a million carnivals in my lifetime," I admitted. "Especially with Ma—" I stopped myself mid-sentence, narrowing my eyes in uncertainty.

"She was bound to come up eventually," the man sneered, popping a thin strip of the cotton candy into his mouth.

"Yeah, I know, but sorry anyway."

Harley let out a sigh, annoyed and frustrated. "Have you decided what the hell you're doing now that we're on the subject?" he then wondered, avoiding looking at me.

"I, um… well, no, actually," I told him. "I haven't had the opportunity to think it over."

"Hm, I see," he then voiced distantly.

"I'm not sure if I should bother asking, because I think I know your answer, but I'll give it a shot anyway." I paused for a moment, picking at my cotton candy. "Do you think I should go?"

Harley laughed. Cruelly, too. "You're right, Max, you do know the answer. I'll spare you hurt feelings by not saying it either. You know my stance on this."

I let an uneasy silence wash through us for several minutes as we ate the rest of the cotton candy. I wanted to ask the man what he would do if I did decide to go, but sadly, I didn't know if I _wanted _to hear the answer. Once again, I thought he was being incredibly unfair with the situation, basically acting like I had to choose between my sister and him. It almost felt like… well, that I would _lose _one if I chose the other. That thought sent a pang down my heart, one I couldn't bear if it became reality.

Abruptly, I felt one of the man's hands on my thighs, gliding up and down. I stared at the moving hand then to Harley, who suddenly had a very sly grin on his face and was moving toward me, whispering, "I don't want to have to share you, darling."

Share me? I wasn't sure why he said this so seductively, so _calmly_, but it undoubtedly had to do with him trying to get me to forget about May. Oddly enough, it sort of did, because it reminded me of what we had done this morning, what we always seemed to do in the mornings and at night. There was no way I could share that sort of experience with someone other than Harley. I was so sure that by now we knew each other far too intimately, and while that definitely had its advantages in the relationship, it sure wasn't helping the situation now.

Sighing, I eventually finished my cotton candy, which by the end, became so sticky and gross that I didn't want to eat the remaining fluff stuck onto the cardboard stick. Harley seemed to be done with his, too, and we both threw the snacks away in the nearby garbage can. Before we began walking again, I took a moment to really _look at _Harley: his features, his clothing, his expression. Wondering again for the millionth time, why was it that this _man, _this completely feminine and flashy man, made me feel so strange, so full of affection and desire and security? It was so hard to be with him without wanting to touch him and kiss him and hug him. I was finally beginning to understand why Harley was so affectionate towards me all the time, even in public.

"Can't take your eyes off of me, huh?" the man teased, grinning. "I'm just so beautiful, I know."

Instead of blushing or becoming flustered or anything like that, I gave him a very soft smile and said, "You mean a lot to me."

"Max, don't say stuff like that if you don't mean it," he lectured.

"_What_?" I demanded. "I'm not lying, Harley! You do! I've told you that before!"

I couldn't tell whether or not Harley was joking. His features were unreadable. For a while, I thought this was the beginning of another fight, but he soon asked, "Want me to win you something now?"

I furrowed my brow, but not knowing what else to do, I nodded in agreement. "Okay, fine." I pointed at a nearby game booth, which had prizes consisting of really cute plushes. "Win me one of those!"

Harley began smiling like a maniac, obviously completely thrilled with the idea, way more than I was, actually. He grabbed my wrist, leading me over to the booth, covered in a white tarp and surrounded by its prizes and a small crowd of spectators, watching curiously. The game seemed to be rather typical for a carnival. There was a painted Snorlax on the far wooden wall and a triangular hole where the mouth should've been. On the counter was a basket full of stuffed triangles, so it was quick to conclude that the concept of the game was simply to throw the items through the mouth. When Harley and I managed to squeeze through the wandering crowds, the man slammed down some money onto the counter, the highest amount available for the most tries.

"I would like to try," he proclaimed, grinning confidently at the carnie.

I watched as Harley gathered the seven stuffed triangles, all which looked pretty dirty from continuously being touched by the hands of those who played the game. The man seemed to notice the discolored stains on the items, too, but obviously decided to ignore it. He picked up the first thing, concentrating on the silly painted Snorlax before swinging his arm back and throwing the triangle forward. The object slammed into the wall, falling pathetically onto the floor. His first attempt hadn't been successful.

"Good try," I noted, but I realized a moment later that Harley probably would've preferred me to say nothing.

So, the man tried again, but once more the object missed its target and fell to the floor. Annoyed now, Harley carelessly picked up a third triangle, throwing it forward and missing all over again. He made an aggravated grunt, huffing loudly and putting his hands on his hips as he stared at the hole again, trying to figure out how to throw next.

"I think this is gypped," he sneered.

"I've seen people walking around with some of these prizes," I told him. "So, it can't be completely _impossible_."

Harley grunted again, taking a triangle, and this time, throwing more at an angle. When the object hit the wall it appeared to be closer to the hole than before, so Harley instantly became more pleased. He pursed his lips, concentrating more and tilting his head to examine something further. With the fifth triangle in his hand, he positioned it himself, then very carefully, swung his arm back before throwing it forward. The stuffed object flew through the hole, collapsing on the other side of the booth, unseen.

"Ah-ha!" the man shouted, obviously very proud. "That wasn't even my last one either." He grinned happily, mostly at me, actually.

"Nice job," commented the carnie. "What do you want?" He gestured to the plushes hung around the booth.

Harley looked at me again, curious for the answer. I began looking at all the plushes, most of which I hadn't taken the time to examine. I wasn't even sure what I was going to do with one of them, but they were really cute. There were a large variety of choices: Bellossom, Chatot, Pikachu, Oddish, Skitty.

"The Chatot," I said, pointing.

Once the carnie got it down from the booth's ceiling, he handed it to Harley, who handed it to me proudly. I examined the plush, which was so soft and colorful, and smiled pleasantly. Harley and I began walking away, allowing someone behind us to go. I held up the Chatot, petting the fake fur and laughing.

"Thank you, Harley," I said, feeling a bit embarrassed that Harley won me something as childish as a toy plush.

"Why'd you choose that one?" he wondered, extending his arm and taking it from me to look at it. He turned it upside down, then sideways, then upside down again. "I've never even seen a real Chatot."

"I've seen some," I admitted. "But, I chose it because I thought it was the cutest."

Harley handed it back to me. "I'm just happy to be the one who won it for you!" he admitted, grinning as he patted the back of my head.

"You know, Harley," I said, frowning a little, "you've given me so much stuff, and I haven't really given you anything." I pursed my lips nervously.

"Most of the time you've given me a piece of that sassy little mind of yours," he quipped, reaching into his pocket and fetching his cigarettes. He put a stick in his mouth, and as he flicked the lighter to life, he mumbled, "Also your virginity."

I grumbled, knowing that additional gibe was coming. "That's not what I meant," I told him. "I just feel like I haven't done enough for you, Harley."

"You have," he assured me. He took a drag of his cigarette, then said, "Don't worry about it, darling."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "If not, I could, like, win you something here."

Harley laughed, moving his cigarette away so he wouldn't choke on the fumes. "_Don't worry,_" he reaffirmed. "Your tight ass is enough for me, I promise."

I sighed just as we arrived near a bench. I took a seat and Harley sat closely beside me, crossing his legs and sucking in more of his cigarette. And, even though we were in the public, I allowed him to wrap an arm around me, pulling me close. I figured since he won me the prize that I could at least return the favor by letting him touch me. Now that it was later in the afternoon, the sun wasn't nearly as bright. Because of this, the lights around the carnival were starting to glow more prominently, mixing with the bright hues of the endless decorations. It made the setting more comfortable, and I was glad, because there was still an uneasy aura between Harley and I, the inevitable need to for an answer floating about.

I set the Chatot on my lap, looking around the area to see if there was anything of interest. Again, most of the activities just weren't going to interest Harley, but still, the Ferris wheel stuck out to me.

"So, what's so scary about heights, anyway?" I wondered, watching the man blow some smoke through his nose.

Harley made a face, obviously knowing why I was asking. "I wouldn't use the word _scary, _Maximus," he argued, trapping his cigarette between his fingers. "I just don't like heights. I always feel as though I'm going to bloody topple over."

"But, you've been on balconies before," I noted.

"Yes, but I don't lean over them," he said. "If I did then I would just die, _ugh_."

I couldn't help but laugh at his overdramatic worry. "Well, a _Ferris wheel _can't be that uncomfortable for you."

"Believe me, they are," he sighed, running his hands through his front bangs.

"I'll be there though," I told him. "_Please, _it will be fun." I put a hand on his arm.

Harley took another drag from his cigarette. "Oh, you little manipulator," he jeered, grinning at me. "You're a quick learner, knowing I have an awful hard time saying no to your sweet, faunlet self. _But, _that doesn't mean I am going to be swayed about this."

"Harley, _please_," I begged, smiling widely so he knew I wasn't being too naggy. "It would just be fun. I promise you won't die or anything."

I could see the man _was _being swayed though. He gave me a look, rolling his eyes briefly, before moving down and kissing me directly on the mouth. I could taste the fresh tobacco lingering, but I also thought I tasted some of the sugar between the creases of his mouth from the cotton candy.

Harley threw his cigarette on the ground, stepping on it lightly. "As long as you don't mind me grabbing onto you, I'll be fine," he told me, still close to my face.

"Okay," I simply replied, glad to have him agree. "Let's get in line then!" I hopped off the bench, still holding my Chatot and pulling Harley up with me.

Harley was slow, but he did allow me to lead the way, getting in the reasonably short line with him. The Ferris wheel was currently going now, continuously revolving and only stopping when a new set of carts were at the top. The gentle wind had the seats moving back and forth, and within the minutes that Harley and I were waiting in line, they turned on another set of lights on the wheel, making it glow even more.

We made it to the front of the line after a few minutes and were seated on a purple cart with swirly designs on it. We sat on opposite sides, but while I scooted to the very end to look out the window, Harley stayed still right in the middle of his seat. Soon, the wheel began moving, going up a few feet and stopping so the next set of people could get onboard the cart below us.

Still fascinated, I looked at the window, but there wasn't much to look at since we weren't high up yet. Harley's lips were tightly pursed, and he had his eyes closed. I was shocked to see him this nervous. I did consider that besides balconies, I actually hadn't seen Harley anywhere near heights. I couldn't help worry just a bit for the man, so I switched seats, moving over next to Harley and blocking the window view for him.

"I can't believe you're this scared!" I exclaimed.

"_Scared _is not the word, once again," he lectured, furrowing his brow.

"Then, what are you?" I asked, grinning.

"On-edge…"

I rolled my eyes. "That's basically the same thing," I told him, feeling the wheel continue to rotate. We were now fairly high, so I looked out, seeing a good view of both the carnival and Slateport off in the distance. "Look, there's the Contest Hall!"

"I prefer not to," Harley grunted, folding his arms and relaxing against his seat.

A large gust of wind went by, hitting our cart and causing it to roughly sway. Harley immediately gripped the side of the cart, grunting loudly and biting his lip. I was pretty unnerved by the movement, continuing to look out the window as we reached the very top. I could finally see most of the city, which was now lit up just like the carnival. With such a gray sunset throughout the sky, everything was so glistening and lively: the buildings, the signs, the lamp posts.

I looked down at the Chatot, just as colorful as the scenery outside. It was silly—_so silly—_but I was absolutely thrilled Harley had won this thing for me. I wasn't one for stupid little plush toys, but it was just the fact _Harley _had won it for me that made me so happy to receive it. I suddenly felt bad for forcing Harley on the Ferris wheel, especially since I could feel how stiff and nervous he was next to me.

I reached out, resting a hand on Harley's thigh, hoping that the touch would calm him. He still felt stiff, but he quickly accepted what I was doing and pushed himself against me, putting an arm around my hips. His grip was rather tight, and I figured he was doing this because he felt insanely unbalanced up here on the swaying cart.

"You're kind of hurting me," I told him, trying to shake away the grip around my hips. "We're not going to fall!"

Harley made a noise in the back of his throat. "It certainly feels like we are!" he yelled. His grip only tightened around me, and he pulled me closer, forcing my legs over his and keeping my back up with a single arm.

Now in less pain, I relaxed. Hoping to let Harley feel the same, I leaned against him, pushing my face into his shoulder and loosely hugging him. His arms seemed less rigid, but he was definitely still tense.

I began laughing softly. "You're such a weirdo," I announced, linking an arm behind his neck.

"We're going down now," he stated, sighing heavily. He lifted my chin, looking me straight in the eye. "I could just squeeze you, you adorable thing."

I made an amused face but otherwise remained unaffected by the man's strange statement. My chin still lifted, Harley leaned in, stamping a kiss there before planting another right on my lips. I responded, tilting my head and opening my mouth so his tongue could enter. His hands cozily rested on my sides, and I felt very light and happy now that he wasn't all jittery.

"How about that wank in the haunted house?" he asked, his tone soft.

"Well, I haven't seen a haunted house, so I don't know if I can agree to that," I told him. Then, through my stifled laughter, I added, "Let's get some corn dogs."

Now, it was Harley's turn to laugh, and as we settled on the bottom of the wheel, he seemed completely okay with the situation. "_Oh_, now that is something I could agree to!" he beamed. "So long as you want to play our little game again."

I shrugged as I moved off of Harley's lap. "I guess I owe you something for dragging you on this thing," I replied, grinning.

"Good then!" he exclaimed.

When the carnie opened the cart and allowed us out, Harley and I made our way over to the closest food stand. Almost too eager, the man ordered two corn dogs, handing one to me by the stick and then traveling over with me to sit on another one of the benches. I was about to take a bite out of the food, but then I remembered I agreed to play Harley's little game. The man was already lolling his head back and dangling the corn dog by the stick to allow it into his mouth. I watched him for a moment, fascinated, but sooner or later, copied his movements.

The corn dog was really warm in my mouth, and like before, the bread felt really weird. I felt the very tip of it press into my throat, and it seemed to close up, uninviting to the invading figure. I coughed slightly, but tried to get the corn dog in deeper. Eventually, I clamped my mouth shut, biting where I was at before gagging unpleasantly.

I pounded my chest, trying to relax before I looked over at Harley, who I could see was biting the stick, just like last time. I frowned deeply and grunted out, "You win again, Harley."

The man took the corn dog out of his mouth, smiling. "Well, no surprise there, darling," he said, laughing. He then leaned over, examining mine. "But, it does look like you got it _a little _further, if that helps."

I gave Harley a look before I decided to bite into my corn dog for real. "I don't even know why I do these kind of things with you," I told him lightheartedly.

"Me either," the man said amusedly, "especially when I've had first-hand experience with your abilities."

I instantly turned red. "Why do you have to be so gross?"

The man laughed loudly then took a bite from his corn dog. "You and I ought to get going before it gets too dark," he said, his mouth full.

I finished up my corn dog and discarded the stick in the trash. "Fine with me," I said. I picked up my Chatot, which I had placed on the bench, and walked alongside Harley as he began walking towards the exit.

By now, most of the carnival activities were slowing down, but there was definitely going to be a new wave of people coming for the later hours of the carnival. Of course, it was better for us to leave, because most of the people coming in looked freaky and weird.

"Thank you for taking me," I said to Harley as we strolled down the hill leading back to the city. "And for going on the Ferris wheel with me. And winning this Chatot. And, uh, everything."

Harley smiled, obviously proud of himself. "You're welcome, Maximus," he said to me. The man patted my head, but purposely let his fingers glide down and stroke the back of my neck.

For the most part, we walked in silence for the rest of the way back to Harley's house. There was hardly anyone out on the streets closer to all the beach houses. With the light breeze flowing through the air I could really smell the salt from the ocean and along my ankles, I could feel some dusty sand hitting my skin, which annoyed me. Harley was absentmindedly lighting yet another cigarette, and soon, I could see the white smoke in the air, too.

When we reached Harley's house and entered, the man immediately began taking off his jacket and shoes, still smoking his cigarette, which he had trapped between his lips. He didn't bother turning on any of the lamps, so the only source of light was from the setting sun or rising moon (I wasn't sure what was out right now). Harley walked over to me, taking the Chatot and examining it once more.

"I guess it's pretty cute. Worth the money I spent on that game."

In the dark, I saw the end of his cigarette light up in a red spark, brightening momentarily as he took a drag. I could see a bit of his features, but most of them were unrecognizable in the darkness. I smiled at the man when he handed back the plush to me. I wanted to say something, but I ended up yawning tiredly, and I covered my mouth to stifle the noise.

"Tired, huh?" the man said, and it was almost _outrageous _how already Harley's tone dropped to a sensuous volume as if he knew I was more likely to consent to his lechery now that we were in private.

And, just to amuse myself, I decided to play with him a little. "Yeah," I said, nodding and acting as if I was unaffected by his lusty tone. "I think we should go to bed."

"Bed?" he echoed. "It's bloody early!"

I set down the Chatot on the coffee table and kicked off my shoes quickly after. Deciding to grab my backpack, I walked a bit closer to Harley, purposely brushing against him before picking up my bag.

"What are you doing?" he wondered, taking a seat on the couch and watching me continue to explore my backpack. He crossed his legs properly and inhaled some smoke, holding a curious look on his face all the meanwhile.

"It's getting dark out," I explained, "and it reminded me of the Dusk Stone." I located the stone beneath many of my items, lifting the small velvet bag and feeling the material for a moment before taking out the stone.

Harley, exhaling a large puff of smoke, carried on his curious expression, but I could tell that beneath it, he was frustrated with me for ignoring his suggestive comment from before. I sat next to Harley—purposely very close so that our thighs were touching—and turned the stone into the pale light coming from the back window. The dark object glowed just a bit, and I held it up, showing Harley how it looked in the lack of light.

"Pretty," he proclaimed, sucking in some fumes. He took the stone away from me, touching the rough edges. "Let's play with this later though, huh?" He tried to grab the velvet bag from me, but I moved my hand.

"No!" I said. "I want to evolve Murkrow."

Of course, this was so far from the truth that it was hard to contain my laughter. I would never just randomly decide to evolve one of my Pokémon like this, and Harley knew that I wanted to wait, but it was insanely fun to witness the man getting so impatient.

"_Now_?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "You haven't even trained the poor thing."

"He doesn't need it," I claimed. "I told you that already."

I grabbed the stone back and then—_then _I made my mistake—by bending down and reaching for my bag. As I did this, Harley made a quick move, snaking an arm around my stomach from behind and pulling me back up, only to plop me directly on his lap.

"I know what you're doing," he quietly said, putting out his cigarette on the ashtray. "And, sure, sure, you're cute, but I want to have real fun."

I ended up laughing, but then placed the velvet bag on the coffee table next to the Chatot. "Sorry, I couldn't help it," I admitted, still chuckling.

Harley reached down and stroked my neck with the back of a single finger. "You are just a little tease." He grinned and kissed the top of my head. "But, I'm far too smart for your games, Max." He pushed a hand underneath my shirt, feeling my skin.

Harley's lips were quickly on mine, spending several moments simply kissing me. I allowed his tongue in, colliding with my own, and soon, feeling behind my teeth and slithering against my moist walls. He tasted so metallic and rough, but I enjoyed the flavor from his warm tongue. Still sitting in his lap, he leaned my head back and began unfastening my shorts. Pulling apart momentarily, I watched as the man licked his lips, keeping his eyes locked on mine before slipping a hand into my shorts and going beneath my underwear. I let out a silent gasp, instantly closing my eyes and allowing his long, slender fingers to begin fondling my length.

I smiled into his touch, feeling each finger stroke me, slow and tormenting. A little impatient, I rose into his hand, forcing my own bit of fervency. Suddenly, just as I thought he was going to pull my shorts completely off, Harley lifted me up, pushing me against his chest and standing. Afraid I was going to fall, I clutched onto the man's shoulders and held on tight.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, frustrated to be interrupted.

Harley laughed viciously at my antsy grumble, explaining, "Don't worry, my sweet. We're just going upstairs. You know, where _the bed_ is."

I sucked in my bottom lip as I allowed him to carry me through the living room and up the stairs. I knew I wasn't heavy, but I was still amazed by how he did this so comfortably, especially since he was running his hands through my hair the entire time. When we reached the bedroom, he gently placed me on the bed, and I removed my glasses, setting them aside just as I felt the bed dip with Harley's weight.

"Maximus," he softly called out, crawling on top of me. As he climbed further and further, he took off my shirt, quickly going back to slipping his hand into my shorts. "You make waiting worthwhile, I have to admit."

I lifted my arms to assist and copied the man by pulling off his own shirt. Harley smiled, happy to see me taking part, too, especially when I unbuckled his belt and helped him wiggle the long, green pants off his legs. I noticed Harley was fully hard, just like me, and I was glad because it made me feel less desperate. As soon as he managed to get his pants off and throw the attire on the floor, he guided my hand to his length, urging me to encircle it.

Harley smirked, feeling my ministrations work up and down his length before he stopped me by pushing down onto my thighs and spreading my legs. He was moving quickly, and allowing very little of a prelude before he made it obvious he wanted to be inside me. He spit into his own hand, preparing himself as he reached out and stroked me, too. I spread my legs a little further, allowing the man to sit between them so he could lift both up in his skilled manner. When he did, I rose my hips, allowing his enveloped hand to continue its work.

"_Ah, _H-Harley…" I whispered, feeling his body move about, hovering over. I encircled my arms around his shoulders, pulling him up just before he slowly pushed himself into my body, causing me to gasp. "_Oh_, Harley, I—"

In a moment of his own, Harley exhaled deeply, readjusting to the pressure from my entrance around his length. "You what?" he asked when I was unable to finish my sentence.

I shut my eyes tightly, lifting my upper-body as I felt the man sink fully into me. I moaned loudly despite myself, swinging my legs over his hips and clenching my teeth in a twist of pain and pleasure. Harley decided to gently slide my legs off him, wrapping his arms around the crooks as leverage when he began to push in and out of my body, creating a pace.

"I don't want to leave you," I revealed, dazed and overly tired. "I don't, Harley."

Harley continued pulling out and sheathing back in, but I witnessed his eyes close, avoiding eye-contact. "Likewise," he panted, and his grip tightened around my legs. "_Christ, _oh, I just love you, darling," he then lamented.

Blushing deeply, I pursed my lips and felt one of his free hands travel from my shoulder down to my hardness, beginning to pump it in his hand to heighten the pleasure. I returned his generosity, rising my hips into each of his downward thrusts. And, as his face hovered over mine, pressing into my neck, I could softly hear him panting my name over and over, just as lost in the same haze of lust as I was, but unable to forget about everything else.

Hard and fast, his thrusts drove deep into my body, sending a wave of delight through me before I ultimately felt my muscles begin to give out. Ready to reach my completion, I gave several upward jerks of my hips, allowing the man to push into me as roughly as we could allow.

"Yes, oh, yes, Maximus…" he panted, his lips trailing up my chin.

My body constricted, and I climaxed directly into the hand Harley had around me. The tightening of muscles caused Harley to give an excited exclaim before reaching competition, too, which I remarkably felt fill me, hot and sudden. I collapsed backwards, heaving with exhaustion from such an unexpected and fast act. I shut my eyes, feeling Harley fall forward, looming over me.

"Darling," he whispered, planting a kiss on my lips within his short pause, "you're not leaving."

I ran my fingers through the man's dangling hair, smelling it briefly. Somehow unconvinced his words were serious, I joked: "You really like to think you control me, don't you?"

"Well, I really ought to be able to, but you're young and so fucking rambunctious," he criticized.

I sighed heavily before kissing the man on the mouth, wanting to comfort him. "May already bought me a ship ticket," I reminded the man, still looking at him in the eyes.

Abruptly, Harley grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. "They'll refund her goddamn money," he told me, obviously trying to convince me I didn't have to go.

And, really, his words _were_ convincing somehow. I knew that if it weren't for him, I would have returned home yesterday when May had originally told me she needed me there. It wasn't as though I'd have anything else to do, but now, with Harley, I had something preventing me. It simply wasn't fair that he was acting this way. He was so possessive over me, though I understood that if my sister was anyone but May he wouldn't be nearly as dramatic over this situation. Yet, what was I supposed to do? _Ignore her_? She was my sister—my only sister and my only _sibling—_and despite the fact we had our downfall, it wasn't right for me to say no to her when she had worked up the courage to ask for my help.

"Harley," I began, my volume low, "I'd promise to come back."

"That is, of course, unless she seduces you," the man seethed, his expression flat.

"That's _not _going to happen."

Harley rolled his eyes, removing himself from me slowly and then rolling over next to me. "Maybe not seduce you that way, but she'll pollute your mind with something to keep you away from me."

"That's not going to happen either, Harley," I argued. "For one, she doesn't even know about us, and even if she did, I wouldn't let her do anything like that."

Staring up at the ceiling, Harley said nothing for a very long time. I almost thought he fell asleep until I heard him exhale in annoyance. I couldn't help doing the same thing, suddenly just fed-up with Harley's childish refusal to understand that what was between May and I wasn't—and simply never could—be anything more than platonic. If I went back to Petalburg for a few days or a week, I'd come back. What I felt for Harley was so intense, and there was no way it would burn out just within a few days or not seeing him. I almost wanted to go even more now just to prove to Harley I would be back.

"What are you thinking about, Max?" the man soon voiced.

I turned to look at the man, who was still lying on his back, staring straight up at the ceiling like a robot. I frowned, surprised he didn't seem to want to look at me. I very calmly answered, "How I feel about you." Then, I added, "And, also how I need to go back home despite that."

The man's eyes shut. "But, you want my permission," he clarified dully. "Which is really quite funny considering how you deny I have any control over you."

"Permission isn't the right word, Harley," I told him, turning over and leaning my head against his upper-arm. "I just want your, blessing, maybe."

"Same goddamn thing," he grunted out. Just a second later, he then blurted out, "You know what, Max—_just go_. Go, because maybe now we can figure out if we're wasting our fucking lives by spending time with each other. Or, better yet, maybe _you _can figure out whether or not you want to sleep with your sister." Harsh and stiff, Harley's tone was anything but pleasant.

"Harley…"

"_What_?" he demanded. "I'm giving you my—what'd you call it? _blessing_?—so just accept it, and you can leave in the bloody morning." The entire time he said all this to me, he didn't even bother turning over or opening his eyes. He still remained on his back, seemingly frozen.

"Harley, stop," I urged, pushing my hand against his chest and sitting up. "You're not being fair to me."

But, Harley was done talking. In the dark room, where not even the moon was supplying any light, it was very hard to see whether or not Harley's eyes were open now. I noticed his breathing was hitched, obviously still upset, but trying hard not to show his emotions. Several minutes flew by before I decided to lay back down and get under the sheets, uncertain and nervous in each movement I made. But, knowing Harley was still awake, still fuming but calmly lying there, I realized that _I _needed to say something, just for my own sake.

"Okay, fine," I said. "I'll leave tomorrow."

xxxxx

_-Harley-_

I wasn't sure how either of us fell asleep last night, but somehow, we both managed. Well, at least, I did. I definitely fell asleep before Max, but so far this morning he didn't seem too tired, so I assumed he got _some amount _of sleep. At the moment though, as he picked at the last of his food, all his movements were very slow, and I was starting to realize he was dreading whatever was going to happen next, which, of course, even I was unsure about.

Outside, the sun was rising quickly, sending a rich combination of orange and yellow all throughout the skyline. Despite this, the light seemed gray and murky over the waves. A particular ray of light, dull and faint, was glowing through the window, beating over Max's figure as he ate.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, I watched the boy carefully, having finished my own breakfast moments ago. Last night, after our incredible fuck, everything went south, and part of me regretted allowing that to happen because we remained in a place of discomfort even now. We had barely spoken all morning, and even though I took the time to cook the boy breakfast, I was still unable to say or do anything else affectionate, which was very much unlike me. Especially since he looked just adorable right now: gently collecting bites of pancakes on his fork as the sun radiated from the windows and fell over his dark hair. I really wanted to walk over and kiss him on the forehead, but I controlled myself, still wanting to make a point.

After a long while, Max finished his meal and washed everything down with a large sip of his orange juice. There was still a strawberry left on the plate, coated lightly with the powdered sugar I specifically added just for Max. Apparently, he wasn't interested in the fruit, so when I collected his dishes, I picked up the strawberry and ate it. Max watched as I chewed, and although it was quick, I saw a smile form before disappearing. Afterwards, I rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, taking my time all the while.

However, when I turned back around, Max was no longer sitting on the stool. Instead, he was in the living room, reaching for the Chatot plush and stuffing it in his backpack. I furrowed my brow, closing the dishwasher and following him.

"What are you doing?" I asked him despite, very deep down, knowing.

Max stopped and looked up at me. Straightening his back, he seemed to immediately frown and become hesitant to speak. He narrowed his eyes. "Packing," he answered.

"Why?" I wondered, and I knew this all seemed very dumb to him, but the realization this was happening did not sit right at all.

"Um," the boy stuttered, seeming weak, "I probably should get going if I want to catch the ship at noon."

Clenching my teeth, I stormed over to the boy and grabbed his backpack from him. Startled, Max stepped back, staring at me helplessly, obviously nervous, even when I turned away, unable to face him.

"Harley…" he called out, and I heard him take a step forward, trying slowly to approach me.

I whirled around. "_What_?" I demanded.

"I told you I was going," he explained to me, "and you were fine last night."

I laughed cruelly. "Are you kidding me?" I scoffed out.

"You said you didn't care." Now, looking completely hurt, he narrowed his eyes again. "And, if you don't care, it shouldn't matter whether I leave or not. You've been unfair about this whole thing anyway."

"Unfair?" I echoed. "You don't even understand the half of it. I don't want you to go because you're going to see _her_."

"She's my sister," he said, making it like the millionth time. "I would come back, Harley, but now you probably wouldn't even want me to."

"That's not true, Max," I defended, tightening my grip on his backpack. "But, the problem here is that you _won't _come back, not after seeing her and realizing just how much she means to you and blah, blah, blah."

Max kept his eyes low. "Stop acting this way," he told me. "I don't want to leave on bad terms with you."

"You shouldn't be leaving at all," I threw back, folding my arms. "You agreed we were good for each other, didn't you? Now, look. God, you're such a little liar."

Color rose just a bit to his cheeks. "Yes, and I still think that, no matter how mean you're being now."

"Mean?" I rolled my eyes, chuckling as I shook my head. "You're leaving me for her."

"Stop making it sound that way…" he said, his voice growing weak. "Harley… I… I love you."

And, _fuck_,I suddenly hated that I ever said those words to him in the first place! Now he was using the statement and throwing it in my face, trying to make me feel bad when _he _was the one betraying me. And all for her: that cursed little trollop who had always screwed me over somehow! Now she was taking Max away from me! And, worst of all, she didn't even know about us. If I hadn't absolutely loathed that girl before, I sure did now.

Enraged, so completely enraged by what Max was saying and doing, I felt my breathing hitch, and I took a step forward, glaring at the boy harshly. "You know I hate her," I seethed, "and despite that, you are still fucking going!"

Max's eyes began welling up with tears. His lip began quivering as he controlled himself and just by sight, his whole body seemed to go cold. "Harley…" he whispered, looking up at me with disbelief.

"It doesn't matter _why_ you feel the need to up and leave me. It doesn't matter _why _you think everything can be okay after you do this. You are _betraying _me for _her_, and you know how that makes me bloody feel, Max!"

"I'd come back…" he insisted weakly.

"I don't want you back after you fucking see her!"

And, now, the tears fell from the boy's eyes. His mouth dropped open, emitting a sob as he turned his head, embarrassed and ashamed.

Knowing I couldn't watch this, I distracted myself by lashing out more, shouting, "Don't act like _you're _hurt, Max! You have a fucking choice here!"

"I can't choose between my sister and you!" he yelled back, still crying. "I still want to be with you, Harley, but you're the one making it difficult!"

"Don't blame me for this," I muttered. "You're ending it. Not me."

"Ending?" he echoed, and suddenly his crying increased. "Harley, stop being so unreasonable! Just _stop _it! I don't know why you're doing it, but you're making everything worse!"

"Do you even remember the type of things she did to me?" I asked him. "Do you remember how she took away ribbons that should've been mine, and if not that, showed up just to piss me off? How could you forget how much I absolutely detest that girl!"

"_She's my sister_!" he shouted. "And I love her, and I don't even care what you think about her! She doesn't have anything to do with _us_! You're forcing her into this, _not me_."

"If you feel that way then get the fuck out, Max! Just go! I don't even care anymore! If you don't understand what she's doing to us then that's not my goddamn problem! _So, just go_!" I violently shoved the backpack into the boy's arms, pushing him back with even more force. "Just get out! I don't care!"

But, the boy wasn't budging. He was staring at me, his eyes still glazed over with tears and his cheeks wet from the fallen ones. Still an occasional sob beating forth, he stood there, managing to look up at me the entire time with such a sincere sorrow. I stared back at him, crazy with anger and disgust and betrayal and hurt and so many other things I couldn't label. It was Max I was yelling at—my sweet, innocent, adorable faunlet—and yet, I just didn't care anymore. I just didn't. If his fucking sister was more important then he just didn't matter anymore.

Nothing mattered.

Because he was leaving.

He was leaving for _her._

I wished I had never walked into that Pokémon Center in Goldenrod City. I wished I had remained completely oblivious to the charms Max possessed. I wished his sister had remained so far back in my mind that she was forgotten.

And, then, Max moved. He turned around, his shoulders heaving for a second before he began walking towards the door. Completely on reflex, I stepped forward with an extended arm, ready to stop him. But, reality hit, and I stilled myself. The only thing I could do was watch the boy turn the doorknob and open the door. I shut my eyes, unable to witness the next thing, and a moment later, I heard the door shut.

I opened my eyes—oh, and I don't know why, but some part of me hoped he would still be there—but, of course, I saw nothing. He was gone.

Every part of my body grew weak, and the only thing I could do was shut my eyes, blocking out the sight of his absence. I turned, slowly, and looked around the empty living room. The sun, still so young in the early morning, was pale over the furniture, creating sad shadows beneath every open inch of the flooring.

My Maximus had left me.

And, somehow, he had the nerve to leave his fucking Dusk Stone on my coffee table.

**End of Part Twelve**


	13. Part Thirteen

**Part Thirteen**

_-Max-_

Four hours and twenty-two minutes on sea brought me back to Petalburg City.

A strong breeze in the dark afternoon made the city much colder than I expected, and I almost wished I was still onboard the ship where it had felt warm and relaxing. As I walked through the streets of Petalburg, I kept my head down, afraid someone would recognize me as Norman's son. I was certainly not in the mood for any of that. Luckily, I was almost home, and knowing my way around the city, I was getting there quickly. However, despite all the longing and desire that had run through me day after day, part of me wasn't even in the mood—or even _ready for—_seeing May again.

Especially not after everything that happened with Harley.

'_I don't care.'_

His last words hadn't stopped running through my mind. Harley had never said anything that cruel to me. He had lost his temper before, even went as far as calling me ungrateful, but nothing had ever come out of his mouth as remotely cruel as his last words to me. He didn't care about me anymore… all because I had decided to come home and see May.

_May. _He wouldn't even say her name. I couldn't _remember _when he last acknowledged her by her first name. It was always "her" and "she" and "your sister," but never just "_May._"Was it even natural to hate another human being like that? What kind of person did you have to be _to carry_ that much hatred? And, he managed to turn all that hate on me, blame _me _for something that I had no idea was even happening. He said I was "ending" this, _us_. Was that true? Had I really destroyed what Harley and I had?

No_._ I refused to believe that. Harley was upset and so was I. He had to calm down at some point, didn't he? I was positive that if I called or wrote he wouldn't dismiss me. Not after everything we had shared, not after he admitted he loved me. I thought I knew Harley fairly well—maybe better than anyone—and I was certain Harley didn't just throw around that phrase. He almost seemed to struggle with the words at first, and I just knew it meant something special to have been able to say them to me.

Stopping in the middle of the street, I closed my eyes slowly, envisioning the man. This was the longest I had been separated from him since we had met, and I hated to admit it, but I missed him terribly. I was not expecting this at all, especially after the way he acted before I left. But, I was trying my hardest to simply forget all that and focus on what else we had been through together. This instantly made me smile, pleasant memories entering my mind. Maybe I was being silly, but for some reason, I really swore I could _smell him_: the tobacco and lavender combination.

Sighing, I decided to continue walking, passing by many stores I was familiar with, including where I knew my mother shopped for groceries. It didn't take for me to end up on my street, and the closer I got to the Gym, the slower I began to walk. Seeing May face-to-face again was something that I had wanted for such a long time, so why was I so _scared _now? Was it really because of everything with Harley, or was I just plain nervous?

After I had left Harley's house, I had walked to the Pokémon Center and called May. She was over-the-top excited that I was coming home, but she sensed something was wrong in my tone and had even asked. It was silly to lie, but there was nothing else I could do. I had been an emotional wreck the entire way, and it was only during the phone call with May that I had been able to stifle down my aftershock whimpers.

I bit my lip, seeing the greenhouse from afar as I continued walking. Part of me—a very large part of me—wished that Harley _was _with me. I certainly did not want to deal with May finding out about us, but I just wanted him here with me. I was half-expecting every now and then for the man's fingers to tickle the back of my neck and make their way through my hair, teasing me carefully.

I suddenly missed Harley _tremendously._ And, now, in front of the Gym, _my house_, I felt my hands begin to shake. Not wanting be a coward, I immediately started walking up the steps leading to the front of the house. To the right, I saw the greenhouse peeking over the Gym's roof, still as vibrant and bright as ever. When I reached the very last step, my movements slowed and it seemed as if several minutes went by before I was able to walk to the front door.

"Max! Max, I can't believe you're here already!"

Startled, I jumped and turned around, searching for where the owner of the voice was standing. My fright flattened when I realized it was May, and there she was, standing at the side of the house, dressed down in gardening attire: a white-lined, green apron, a matching visor and even dirty shoes. I stared at her for a moment, taking in the face that I hadn't seen for so long. She looked the same, but I could tell her hair had gotten longer, though it was still parted to the sides, like always.

"May…" I managed to say, smiling softly at her. "May, it's so good to see you."

May rushed over to me before I could even take a step forward. She wrapped her arms around me, kneeling down and embracing me as tightly as she could. I felt myself flush instantly, memories of Harley _as her _flooding me as my face pressed into her soft, dark hair. I breathed in the scent, entirely subconsciously as I almost thought I was hugging Harley. Timidly, I raised my arms and wrapped them up around May in return.

"Yeah, May," I replied. "It's good to see you, too."

May backed away from me, smiling widely. She smelt so fragile and pretty, but I could also smell actual flowers and plants on her. This reminded me that she was dressed in _gardening clothes_, and that was something I truly had never expected from her.

Catching my look, May laughed sweetly, and explained, "Mom was _really _persistent about me taking care of the garden and the greenhouse." Another laugh. Maybe more of a chuckle. "Gosh, Max, it's amazing to see you again," she then gushed.

I nodded. "Yeah. I'm… I'm glad I came…"

And, I supposed that _was _true. Whatever was happening with Harley and I shouldn't have hindered what was happening here with May. She was my sister and seeing her was an incredible joy. I accidentally gave her _too much _of a smile, and I felt a little silly for getting so mushy over this all.

"Let's go inside, Max," she insisted happily. "Mom taught me how to make tea."

"She did?" I said, and I knew it came out way too snarky, a complete demeaning of her abilities. "I mean, oh, she did?" I tried to correct.

May ended up laughing after giving me a quick glare. "You certainly haven't changed, Max," she grunted out, opening the front door and walking inside. Properly, she removed her dirty accessories and began heading towards the kitchen.

"So, did Mom and Dad force you to come home?" I asked her, setting down my backpack before following her to the kitchen.

"Well, sort of," she answered with a nod. "The Grand Festival is coming up soon, and _I did _plan to come home anyway, but they called me a few days ago, explaining the situation. It was very unexpected."

"Yeah," I simply said.

May turned around as she filled the tea kettle with water. "Max…" she gently called out, "I know you're hurt Dad didn't ask you to come back home for this, but I'm being honest when I say that he _should've_. I mean, I certainly have no idea what I'm doing."

I couldn't help but laugh a little bit. "You're older," I said for her. "I guess it makes sense."

May placed the kettle on the stove, turning it on and then taking a seat at the dining table. "Well, even if Dad wanted to ask, I'm not sure he would've known where to get in contact with you. You hardly call."

Again, color rose to my cheeks. I wasn't sure why I was so embarrassed, because I hadn't kept in touch with my parents that much even _before _I started traveling with Harley. Jeesh, I could not believe that less than ten hours ago I had been with that man, and _now, _I was here with my sister. And, she had no idea about any of it. I almost felt unworthy of being here because I was basically _lying _to her by not admitting the truth.

"I know," I admitted. "I'm always so busy. I sort of forget."

"I'm sure you have time for a phone call _somewhere_," she criticized. "What on earth are you doing with all your free time?"

I sat down across from May, mostly to distract myself from her question. If she only knew! I was such a terrible person for not having the courage to admit to May what I had been doing for the last few weeks, who I had spent my time with and _who I left_. I smiled at her, but I was still red from embarrassment.

"I've just been training really hard," I explained to her. "I mean, I only need one more badge to get into the League, and it's been really exciting."

"Yeah, it must be," she replied, turning to check on the tea. "So, you ran into Misty you said?"

"Oh, yeah," I said, remembering I had told her that. "On my way to Slateport. I pretty much summed everything up on the phone. But, she's just really sweet, and I'm glad to have run into her."

May gave a smile back. "The Orange Islands aren't very populated, but everyone there knew Ash since he was one of the few winners of the Championship there. I did become greater friends with someone we both know."

"Really?" I wondered. "Who?"

"Remember Kelly, the girl who taught us how to make PokéBlock?" she inquired. "Well, she was actually out in the Orange Islands, too, and even though we were rivals, we still managed to be really good friends. We didn't end up in a lot of the same Contests, but she talked to me yesterday, and she has her fifth ribbon, too."

"Oh," I simply said. "That's pretty neat. I've never managed to get a rival." I shrugged.

"Kelly's such a funny person," she beamed. "She's still as silly as ever."

I smiled back at May, happy to see her so gleeful. But, deep down, this also made me sort of sad, because I instantly realized I couldn't relate back to May with stories about Harley and me. I would've _loved that_, too. I always wanted to tell someone else—someone who wouldn't _judge me_—about how Harley and I met up, how our relationship developed, how we spent so much time together that we ended up falling—

—I stopped my thoughts.

I couldn't allow myself to think about Harley right now. It would make me miss him too much. I was allowed to sit here and bask in my thoughts as May stood up to attend to the whistling tea kettle. As she prepared everything I sat there sullenly, thinking about what Harley might be doing right now. Was he still upset with me and just carrying on with his day? Or, had he calmed down and was now missing me? I sighed sadly, quickly deciding I had to call the man before the night was over. At least hearing his voice would comfort me.

"What are you so focused on?" May asked, setting a cup of tea in front of me.

I flinched. "Oh, um, just random stuff," I falsely assured her.

May sat down herself, so polite and proper that it almost scared me. "I really missed talking to you, Max," she told me. "When I received your letter I didn't know what to think. Then I read it, and I was touched."

I shrugged. "Well, I missed talking to you, too," I admitted. "So much has happened, and it's hard to believe I spent so much time not talking to you."

"Time does fly by," she noted, stirring her tea. "Oh! But, that sort of reminds me of something! I have something for you." She got up, wandering off somewhere and leaving me at the table.

A bit confused, I figured I'd find out soon enough, so sat patiently and drank my tea, which was unsurprisingly green tea, the only kind we ever had in this house. Eventually, May came back into the kitchen. She was holding a small yellow box with some kind of company logo on it. I recognized it as the Devon Corporation logo and cocked my head curiously.

She set the box down on the table, grinning all the meanwhile. "Here," she said proudly. "It's one of the biggest advancements the company has made this year," she explained.

I picked up the box, looking at it with interest. I realized it was the Devon Corporation's latest device, an OS smartphone system. It was very small—smaller than my PokéNav—but remained yellow and was completely flat with a little pointer stick to navigate. I turned over the box, seeing not only did the device work like a PokéNav, it also had e-mail and obvious phone abilities. I furrowed my brow, taking in this gift May had graciously given me, but still remained rather confused as to why she would get me something like this.

"May…" I softly said, "thank you—this means _a lot_." I smiled, getting up out of my chair and hugging her.

May laughed. "No problem, Max," she dismissed. "It's a late birthday present, really."

"Thanks," I said again. I went back over to my seat, beginning to open the box. "I really needed one of these things. Even with all the upgrades I've been giving my PokéNav, it's a bit outdated now."

"I'm going to have to agree with that," May told me, laughing. She tilted her head, getting a good look outside. "Now, maybe when you go back to traveling you can actually call Mom and Dad once and a while," she then chided.

I furrowed my brow and stared down at the small device. Was _that _why she got me this? Was she just looking out for Mom and Dad because they complained I never called enough? Or, was she perhaps being selfish about it and wanted _me _to call _her _once I began traveling again?

"What's wrong?" she wondered, sounding worried.

"I just can't help but think Mom and Dad must have said something to you," I revealed quietly. "I mean, like, they complained I never called."

"Oh…" May voiced, making it entirely obvious they had. "Well, maybe it's just because I call _too much._"

Even though I was facing May, I gave a quick roll of my eyes, finding that a bit typical. I remembered how many times she'd call during a week when she was in Johto. I would never speak to her on the phone, and Dad especially would get very upset with my attitude. How was it my parents never were irritated by the amount of phone calls from May? If she called me that often—regardless of if we were on good terms—I would be beyond aggravated.

"Well, I'm always really busy," I told her harshly. "I don't always have time to call."

May looked disappointed by my words, narrowing her eyes and pushing out her lip. Part of me felt bad for getting snippy with her. I was about to apologize, but suddenly, she changed the subject, exclaiming, "It's so dark out already!"

I gave her a weird look, wondering how she could just go off on a tangent like that. But, not wanting to seem ungrateful by continuing to criticize why she purchased me a smartphone for a present, I just asked, "Did Kenny already go home?"

She nodded. "Yes," she replied. "I actually thought that with you around we wouldn't need him that often, so with Dad's permission, I told him we could take a week off."

"Oh," I voiced. "Then, um, does that mean Dad knows I'm here?" I wondered, managing to get out the small device and pulling out the small, plastic warranty slip from the side.

"Yeah, I did," she said. "Why? Did you not want me to?"

I shrugged as I started up the smartphone. "I guess it doesn't matter," I shrugged off.

"Well, I hate to be rude, but I really should take a shower," she explained. "I've been working outside, and am utterly _smelly_." She stood up, finishing off the rest of her tea and then placing her cup in the sink. She took mine, too, and then asked, "Will you still be awake when I'm out?"

I looked up at May. "Probably not," I admitted. "I'm wiped out from the trip."

"All right then," May said. She walked over to me, wrapping her arms around my body and hugging me tightly once more. "Then, good night for today. Tomorrow we should do something fun."

I hugged her back, holding her close and leaning my chin on her shoulder. "Good night," I simply murmured, and once we released the embrace, I realized I had somehow smelt her hair again.

May walked away, headed towards the bathroom. I stood up and walked to my bedroom, located at the very west end of the house. When I switched on the lamp inside my room and saw the small enclosure, I realized how tiny it seemed to have gotten. I closed the door behind me and immediately changed into something fresh and clean. It felt _so nice _to be in clothing I hadn't worn in a while. And, having put on my nightwear—a plan white t-shirt and a pair of shorts—I started to become a bit embarrassed even though I was completely alone. I guess it just reminded me how unneeded _these _apparels were when I was around Harley.

I sat on my bed, which was so comfortable and familiar (though small) and began toggling with my smartphone again. I customized it quickly then stared at the empty address book. I still remembered Harley's phone number. And, this fact was making me want to call Harley more than ever.

Slowly—_so very slowly—_I began pressing the numbers with the pointer. For some reason, it seemed completely reasonable that my very first phone call with my new device was to Harley. I smiled distantly, hearing the ring on the other end several times. But, with each ring, I started to realize that Harley was not going to answer.

That realization broke my heart.

Soon, I heard the default voice explaining the person I was trying to reach was not available, but I could leave a message and so forth. When I heard the beep, I was quiet, having no idea what _on earth _I was supposed to say to Harley.

'_I don't care.'_

Suddenly very hurt, I hung up. I closed my eyes, suppressing an urge to simply start crying. He had said those words to me. And, for some reason, it hadn't _really, really _hit me until just now. The same man who proclaimed to me what no else ever would, told me he didn't care whether or not I left him. And, yet, I wanted to call him and hear his voice and talk to him? How stupid was I?

I fell backwards on my bed, closing my eyes and blinking out the tears that formed. I hadn't even lied on a bed in the past week that I hadn't shared with Harley. Now, lying back on my own, it felt empty and I felt _so alone._ Small and skinny, my bed wouldn't fit both Harley and me, unless he really bundled up close to me. Imagining what that would be like—what it would _feel like _to have him on my bed, holding me close in his possessive manner—my heart fluttered, and I even felt my body temperature rise.

Minutes went by, and weirdly, despite sincerely _feeling _stupid, I regained the desire to talk to him, or at least leave him a message so he could get back to me. I was, however, a bit curious what he was doing right now. Many negative scenarios were running through my head, but I decided he was most likely drinking. If he had gotten upset about me hanging out with _Misty _all day then certainly this situation had lead to the same thing.

Redialing Harley's number, I waited the same amount of time for his answering machine to pick up. At the sound of the beep I took a deep breath. "H-hi, Harley…" I began, weak and frail. "Um, I don't know whether or not you want to hear from me, but I wanted to let you know I'm, well, _here _now. And, Harley, I really do miss you right now, and I really wish you'd pick up. _Please _call me back if you can. I-I… I, um—okay, _bye_."

Shutting my eyes all over again, I replaced the pointer in the smartphone's holder and set it on my nightstand. I'd mess with the device when I had a clearer mind. Right now, I simply could not concentrate on anything else. My mind was blurred, and I was tired, and I wished Harley was with me.

I dug under my bed sheets, getting under and turning off the lamp on my nightstand. I removed my glasses, staring up at the ceiling before taking a deep breath. God, it felt _so foreign _to be in a bed all alone. I had gotten used to Harley being beside me, either pressing against him or being pulled closer to him. His warm arms were always so inviting, even when I was being stubborn. Sometimes it was hard to believe I ever refused him.

Again, I became worried what Harley could've been doing right now. Drunk, maybe, but that didn't necessarily mean he wouldn't do something _stupid. _In fact, it probably increased the chances. What if he… _what if he _met someone? Harley _admitted _he usually had one-night stands, and what if tonight he had found someone? Would he really do that to me? Had our fight today even meant we… _broke-up_?

Horrified by this, I turned in my bed, pressing my face into my pillow. It seemed like such a silly term, but Harley said we were in a relationship, and when you were no longer in a relationship that sort of meant you "broke-up." But, was that really what had happened between us? Neither us had said it, and as far as _I _was concerned, we hadn't broken-up. Even if I had left and Harley was angry and whatever else, I still wanted to be with him. I was absolutely drawn to him in every way. I had fallen in love with him and allowed him to take my virginity, and really, had done just about _everything _with him. It wouldn't have made any sense to just stop being with him.

One memory, a very prominent one, came to me suddenly. I remembered when Harley woke me up in the morning our very first time together. He had said my name several times, so seductive and teasing. We ate in bed and talked and agreed to travel together. And, then, because Harley _always _had to make things perverted, he forced me to put on that unfitting pair of underwear. Having completely ruined the things, Harley threw them out, but on my birthday, he replaced them by giving me a new pair. It was so ridiculous. _He _was ridiculous. But, whatever magnetic power he possessed to make me feel so drawn to him was still a mystery.

For a very long time, I just continued to lie in bed, thinking about the man and everything we had been through. I thought about Goldenrod City, our first meal together, our morning at the pool, our first time together, our nights at hotels, our travels through the woods, our battles—_everything._

Then, hearing a buzzing ring, I sat up in a rush. I looked around in the dark, suddenly seeing my smartphone brightly lit. Confused, I realized I had _fallen asleep_. I looked at my clock, and it read 2 a.m.! Completely shocked that I had been asleep for so long, I slowly reached out and picked up the phone.

"H-hello?" I spoke, tired and fuzzy sounding.

There was a stretch of silence.

"Darling," came the voice soon after.

_Harley._

Instantly washing out the tiredness in my mind, I perked up, smiling widely, but soon catching the weird tone in his voice. He sounded a little angry, but also tired, which I guessed was a slur, in reality.

"Harley?" I called out, furrowing my brow.

"Yes," he answered, his tone quiet. "Yes, it's me."

"I… didn't think you would call…" I admitted, lying back down and resting my head on my pillow. "_But, _I'm so glad you did. Really, I am!"

Another moment of silence, and then, "You're home?"

"Um, yeah," I replied. "Are _you _home?"

"Yes, darling," he assured me. "And, it's terribly lonely here without you, Maximus." His tone seemed steadier now, and I realized he might not have been as drunk as I thought. Maybe he was more tired.

"I didn't think you'd call me back, to be honest," I admitted. "I thought maybe you hated me."

"No, darling," he said, "I could never _hate _my Maximus." He laughed lowly, making a musing sound.

"So, why did you call me?"

"Why'd you call _me_?" he countered.

"Because I miss you, and I thought you ought to know I made it here okay, and… I wanted to hear your voice, too." I laughed myself. "It's silly, I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he told me. "_Fuck_, I hate that sister of yours."

I furrowed my brow, not expecting that comment so suddenly. "Well, she bought me something for my birthday."

"Better than the undies I got you?"

Ignoring that, I said, "It's a smartphone from the Devon Corporation."

"_Oh,_ and here I thought I was calling your home phone. Too bad. It would've been fun to leave a very _revealing _message on the machine."

I sighed. "Well, too bad you won't be able to," I stated. "But, if you want… you can always leave a message on this phone." I blushed at my words, feeling silly.

"Maybe I will, Maximus," he said, his tone very lecherous.

"Do you miss me?" I blurted out, closing my eyes sleepily.

"What kind of question is that?" he asked back. "I miss your ass and your cock and—"

"_Stop_ being gross," I demanded. Then, much softer, "You said you didn't care, Harley. You said you didn't care if I left. And, now I'm gone, but I miss you so much despite you saying that."

"I wish I was fucking you right now."

"Harley…" I called out in annoyance. "Are you drunk?"

"Only a little, and it's your fault, so I have no reason to apologize," he basically seethed.

"Can you answer my question?" I asked him sadly. "_Please_?"

"Mm, what was it again?"

"Do you miss me?"

Even though I couldn't see the man, I was betting he had closed his eyes, letting out a silent sigh. "I'm tired, darling."

"Then why'd you call? It's like 2 a.m., and _I'm _tired."

"I guess I just miss you."

"Huh?" I scoffed out. Then, smiling a little—even though it really _wasn't _funny he was so loopy and tired from his binge drinking—I thought it was ironic that despite obviously trying to hide his feelings, he was actually admitting them. "Well, then, maybe we should go to sleep."

"_Mmm_, but oh, Max, I love hearing your voice."

"Then, will you call me tomorrow?"

"Yes, I will," he proclaimed. "Bye, Maximus."

I heard him hang up, leaving me in the dead silence of the night. It took me a moment to set down my smartphone, but eventually, I did. Sighing, I thought about _how weird _that whole call was, and I almost thought that maybe _this was _my dream and not all those entwined memories. But, the heavy weight of my eyelids told me that I was indeed awake.

I felt a maudlin shiver run through my body before I managed to drift off to sleep. Harley still cared about me, and that actually made me happier than being home with my sister.

xxxxx

_-Max-_

"Max, wake up."

Groggy, slightly annoyed and frustrated, I turned in my sheets, feeling the thin material restrain me further in my bed. I heard the voice repeat itself, and a little unsure, I managed to lift my head, looking around the room. I only saw the glaring sunlight through the single window in my room, and this did nothing but frustrate me further.

"Max!"

I jerked, blinking out my sleepiness. "Har—?" I stopped myself when I saw May standing at the side of my bed. "May!" I exclaimed, shaking my head to clear my head.

"Sorry to startle you," she apologized, smiling. "But, you really should wake up. It's almost 4 p.m.!"

I stumbled out of bed, scratching my head. "No, no, it's okay," I told her, yawning afterward. "But, why didn't you wake me sooner?"

I then got a good look at my sister. She was dressed in a tan skirt and green blouse, much more girlie than I ever expected from her. I guessed that since she wasn't traveling she didn't feel the need to dress down. But, I had to admit, I didn't really like her dressed like this. I preferred her biker gear.

"Oh, um…" she narrowed her eyes, a bit flustered. "I had two challengers this morning."

I looked at May flatly. I already knew that since May was taking care of the Gym she had to battle any trainers who requested, but hearing it from her was a bit different. It was like I had _just _realized the extent of what she had to do here. I narrowed my own eyes, giving a quick huff.

"You know, Max," she began, looking back up, "the two of us haven't battled."

I brushed out my hair with my fingers, distantly envisioning it was actually Harley who was doing it. "Yeah, that's true," I said. "We ought to sometime. But, to be honest, right now I'm not in the mood."

Not believing my dismissal, May shook her head and argued, "Now, I simply can't see you turning down a battle." She put her hands on her hips, tilting her head. "If you think I'm tired or anything, I'm not. _Come on_, let's battle."

I sighed. "Maybe later," I told her. "I do need to train my Murkrow. Misty gave me a Dusk Stone!"

"A Dusk Stone?" May inquired. "Wouldn't that make Murkrow evolve into a…?"

"A Honchkrow," I finished for her. "Yeah, and it's really pretty, too! Let me get dressed, and I'll show you."

Seeming pleased I had suddenly brightened up, May smiled and left the room, closing the door behind her. I rushed to my dresser, picking out a plain collared shirt and shorts, my usual attire. I dressed quickly—brushing out my hair, too—and then rushed out of my room, heading towards the front door where I had placed my backpack. I heard May in the kitchen, so I walked in there as I dug through my backpack.

"That was awfully nice of Misty," May noted. "I mean, I know she doesn't have any Pokémon she could use that sort of stone on, but she could've easily sold it." She sat down at the table after she took an apple from the bowl on the counter.

"I can't find it!" I exclaimed, and very worried, I turned over my backpack, letting every last item fall from it. I began picking through the scattered pile, looking for the small velvet bag. "Where _is it_?" I exclaimed.

May, chewing a bite of her apple, stared at the mess on the table. Her eyes wandered from my Pokéballs to my PokéNav to my sketchbook to… the umbrella. Curious, she picked it up, and I saw the little yellow tag dangle merrily, the word "faunlet" distinctly recognizable.

"Uh, can I have that?" I instantly asked, trying to grab it back.

May looked up, furrowing her brow. "What? Why?" she asked.

I grabbed it hurriedly. "Um, because…" I stuttered, replacing it in my backpack. "It's bad luck to open an umbrella indoors!" I explained, making sure the tag was at the very bottom, unable to be seen.

"I wasn't going to open it," she said, smirking. She shook her head again. "Your bag sure is messy."

"I know," I said, only paying minimal attention as I kept my eye on the mess before me.

Then—because I swear she was either suspicious or the world was way too ironic—she reached out to pick up the Chatot, making a sharp-pitched little squeal. "Aww!" she chirped, smirking. "This is so cute! Where'd you get it?"

I almost grabbed this from her, too. Quickly, however, I realized there was nothing revealing about it, although, in the back of my mind, I wondered if she had any living idea that Harley not only held it in his hands, but had won it for me, too.

"Uh, I bought it," I decided to say. I wasn't even sure why I decided to lie. But, annoyed, I sighed in frustration. "I can't find my stone still. I think I left it at—" I paused, knowing I couldn't say the man's name.

May gave me a considerate look, seeming sad for me.

"Great," I said tiredly. "I'll call the hotel later," I then lied.

"I'm sure the maids found it," she told me, crunching on her apple.

I began replacing all my items in my bag, scrunching up the small blue pair of underwear so May wouldn't be able to see them. I turned red nonetheless, feeling as though she did catch a glimpse.

"Nurse Joy came over earlier," she suddenly revealed. "Today's the 30th anniversary of the official opening of the Center here in town, so she's doing a fireworks display to commemorate it."

"Oh," I simply voiced, replacing the last of my items. "That might be fun to watch."

"I thought so, too," May agreed. "We'll probably be able to see them fine from outside the greenhouse. Speaking of which, you didn't say hello to your Pokémon!"

I rubbed the back of my head. "Yeah, I haven't, I admitted. "I should probably let my other Pokémon out there, too."

May threw the rest of her apple away. She then moved forward, tugging at my arm. "Yeah, let's go, Max! I want you to see the Pokémon I caught in the Orange Islands!" She grinned happily, pulling me towards the backdoor.

I quickly grabbed my Pokéballs before the two of us exited, walking outside. It was pretty hot out, the sun glaring down and entering the greenhouse, which was even more humid and muggy, seemed unbearable. As soon as we entered I simultaneously let out my Pokémon: Slugma, Murkrow, Kirlia, Mareep, Skiploom and Stantler.

"Wow!" May exclaimed. "I can't believe you have a full team."

Murkrow immediately perched himself on a tall tree, but he was looking around in puzzlement, obviously curious about his new environment. He also seemed to be looking at May, too, and I guessed he was wondering where Harley was since he had gotten used to the man's presence. I sighed quickly before beginning to walk around the greenhouse, searching for Sceptile.

"Oh, Max!" May yelled, out of my sight. "Come over here! I want to introduce you!"

I walked to where I heard my sister's voice. She was by the artificial river, bending down and petting a pink Pokémon. It was round and small and had a stroke of red on its body, topped off with a short leaf from its head.

"This is Cherubi," May said, smiling. "I caught her right after my last Contest. I wish I found her sooner—she'll be able to do _amazing _Appeals."

The small creature was very cute. I couldn't help but smile, bending down and patting its head, too. "Hi, there," I greeted. "She's really cute."

"I know!" May squealed ridiculously.

Just when I was about to say something, I felt something grab at my back. Startled, I turned around, but with the combination of May's laughter and the sight of a green and tan Pokémon, I realized instantly that it was only Sceptile, giving me a friendly hello. I laughed, too, reaching out and stroking the creature's head.

"Hi!" I said. "I missed you terribly!"

Sceptile made a sound of agreement.

"I think I might use you in the Johto League," I told the creature. "How does that sound?"

Obviously excited, Sceptile brightened up considerably. I laughed, patting his head before the Pokémon jumped away, returning to the crowded clutter of bushes and trees. I turned back to May, who was still petting and gushing over the small Cherubi. I rolled my eyes in amusement.

"So, what else did you catch?" I asked.

"Well," May said, standing up straight and putting her hands on her hips, "I caught a Ledyba, too. And, even though this isn't _a catch_, Bulbasaur finally decided to evolve."

"Really?" I excitedly exclaimed. "I can't wait to see them! Where are they?"

May laughed. "Who knows. It'll take forever to find them in here."

"Well, we definitely should battle later," I told her. "I want to battle Cherubi against Murkrow."

"Don't underestimate her just because she's small," May warned me, giving a confident grin.

"Fine, fine," I said, beginning to walk out of the greenhouse.

"I know it seems like you just woke up, but I think I should start dinner for us," May stated as we walked through the yard. "Of course, you know I'm not much of a cook, so I'd appreciate it if you helped me out!"

"For _my sake, _yes, I will," I told her, laughing cruelly. "You should've kept Kenny around for food purposes though."

"Yeah, I know," she admitted. "But, he works so hard all the time."

When we reentered the kitchen, May began washing her hands. I decided to put my backpack in my room, so I took it, walking to my room. As I walked in the hall, I began hearing a ring, and I realized it was my smartphone. I sped up, reaching my room quickly and picking up the phone. I recognized Harley's number, so I answered, almost _too desperately._

"Oh, and here I thought you weren't going to answer."

My heart began beating quicker, instantly affected by hearing the man's smooth, but enthusiastic voice. I felt my lips extend into a goofy smile, and I walked over to the door, closing it for privacy. The last thing I needed was for May to hear me talking on the phone with Harley. I almost forgot to respond simply because I was overjoyed by the man's incredible voice and the mere fact he was actually calling me.

"Hi," I greeted happily. "You know, part of me didn't even think you would remember the call last night."

The man let out a soft snigger. "Why, Max, you underestimate my abilities to remember events when I'm plastered."

I rolled my eyes, almost feeling as though the man could see my expression. "Nonetheless, I'm glad you're okay," I told him. Then, flatly, "So, now that you're sober, are you going to apologize to me?"

I heard the man scoff loudly. "Max, you know I adore you. It's so fucking dry here without my faunlet."

"So, you _do _miss me?" I asked, wanting an affirmation for his drunken words last night.

"Have you fucked her yet?"

"_What_?" I gasped out. "Harley! I don't want to fight with you again!"

"Makes two of us, my love," he told me. He then sighed heavily, obviously getting up from wherever he was sitting. "Remember what I said about you leaving?"

"That you didn't care?" I blurted out bitterly. "That really hurt, Harley."

"No, _no_," the man dismissed. "_Before _I told you I'd go mad. Christ, it's true. It's been only a day, and I just might be declining in the sanity department."

"Don't mock me," I grunted.

"Maximus, I'm not," he assured me. "I'd give anything to shag you silly right now. _Oh, _and how_ hard _and_ fast _I would do it. _Mm._"

I felt myself affected by the man's lusty words. Blushing, I narrowed my eyes, replying, "I miss you, too, Harley. I can't believe how much."

"That's because I'm great fun, and since my competition is that _sister _of yours, I doubt I have anything to worry about regarding who is more entertaining."

"Well, if you feel that way, why do you worry about _other stuff_?"

Harley chuckled. "I guess I'm just protective of my darling faunlet," he proclaimed. "Really, I must admit, I do regret saying such awful things to you yesterday. But, some things I refuse to take back, because I think it's unfair the way you up and left the love of your life."

I began laughing. "Love of my life?" I echoed. "Since when?"

He laughed. "Since forever, Max. Who else is going to pamper you silly the way I do, huh?" I then heard some kind of flicking spark on the other end, and I concluded Harley was lighting a cigarette. "No one, that's who," he finished for himself.

"So, you're telling me that because you're supposedly the love of my life, I shouldn't have left you?" I wondered, frowning. "I think that's silly."

"Maybe you think so now, Max," he said, "but you'll realize it's true. _She_ will never ravish you with attention, at least not the kind you like. And, whether or not that girl has a sex drive is still a mystery, but I'm positive she won't give you what you want. Only _I _can."

I shut my eyes, his suave confidence feeling as though it were running down my body. I was so mesmerized by how he carried his tone. Before last night, I had never talked to him on the phone, and now—_now _with him sober and obviously trying to be charming—I realized that his voice was one of his most powerful attributes. It was like I didn't even _need to _see him, because he already felt so lively and strong and handsome. I was unbelievably overwhelmed by his tone, his volume, his controlled cadence.

"Don't worry, Maximus," he then told me in encouragingly. "You'll realize this soon enough."

"_Well,_" I firmly began, "I don't plan on letting any of the sort of stuff happen, Harley."

"So, your heart is all mine? Oh, and your body, too?"

"I find it funny that this is all coming from you," I revealed. "Quite the opposite of everything you told me yesterday, claiming you didn't care and whatnot."

"We all make mistakes," he excused. "And, besides, Max, you're the love of _my_ life! Well, at least I'm fairly certain. I'll have to go back and check to see if there are anymore boys quite like you, though, once again, I'm pretty convinced there aren't."

The way Harley said this—"the love of my life"—was so odd and humorous to me. He said it like some high and mighty king, so unconvincing with the phrase but obviously believing it himself. I couldn't help but smile.

"Harley, I'm so happy you called me today," I then lamented in a goofy tone. "I had this horrid fear that you and I weren't going to talk anymore."

"Funny story, darling," he said, pausing momentarily as I presumed he inhaled some of his cigarette. "Last night—oh, and have I ever told you I have wonderful revelations when I'm wasted?—_well_, I was sitting here thinking I should just forget about you and let you fuck your sister, and one day, I'll get over your faunlet-y ass. But, then it came to me after I heard that sweet little message from you."

"Um, what came to you?" I asked, urging him to continue as I furrowed my brow.

"That even though I was a complete bastard you still wanted to talk to me," he explained. "And, _fuck, _that just made me realize how precious you were—oh yes, it did! So, I figured if you were willing to talk then I definitely should not push you away. And, _voila, _here we are talking. I expect to check up on you every day."

"Check up on me?" I echoed. "So, _that's _what this is about?"

After a small chortle, the man answered, "Yes, it is. I'll amuse you enough so you won't be tempted by that trollop."

"That wouldn't even happen in the first place," I stated.

"Mm, fine, whatever," he dismissed, letting out a small huff. "Now, I'll let you go, but I expect a phone call before you go to bed, darling. There are many ways to make midnight calls _fun_."

"All right," I droned, shaking my head. "I will try my best."

"Goodbye, my sweet, darling, faunlet-y, _exceptional _Maximus."

"_Goodbye_," I said back firmly, only laughing a little as hung up. I smiled distantly, staring at the blank phone. I decided to add the man's number to the actual address book, along with my home number, too.

I then realized I had been talking to Harley far too long. I immediately left my room, rushing to the kitchen. May was stirring something in a pot, but when she saw me, she rose an eyebrow, very curious.

"What on earth took so long? I was just about to check on you."

"Um, I… I… I had called the hotel."

Of course, not only was this a lie, _this also _made me realize I had completely forgotten to ask Harley about my Dusk Stone. I was positive I left it there, remembering that the night before I left I was teasing the man by insisting I wanted to evolve Murkrow. I was pretty sure I even left it on the coffee table.

"Oh," May said, continuing to stir whatever was in the pot. "Did they have it?"

"They said they weren't sure," I continued to lie. "But, I gave them my number and they said they would call me back once they checked."

"Well, I'm basically done making dinner!" she exclaimed. "We're having spaghetti, because that's all I can make." She laughed at herself palely, moving over and stirring another pot, which I concluded contained the sauce.

"Sorry," I said, rubbing the back of my head. "Is there anything I can do now?" I then asked.

"You can set the table," she told me, smiling brightly with a small flash of her teeth.

I nodded, going over to the drawer where Mom kept the silverware and taking everything out. I set the table appropriately, and I was surprised I even remembered how. I hadn't had much of a formal meal in forever, and even when Harley cooked for me, he just handed me the silverware, and we ate in such an informal manner. In a way, I preferred it that way, but I supposed May just wanted to put on a show, much like she had done when she had discovered the "fun" of making PokéBlock. I ended up laughing, thinking about how excited she was and how bad the final product came out. I hoped that wouldn't be true here.

"What?" she asked, turning around and raising an eyebrow.

"I made PokéBlock not too long ago," I admitted to her as I went to get the plates from the cabinets. "It brought back a lot of memories."

May seemed very interested in my story. "How'd it turn out? Better than May's Purple Surprise?"

I rolled my eyes. "_I _think so," I told her, grinning confidently.

"Well, just for your information, Kelly and I traveled together for a little bit, and she definitely helped improve my PokéBlock skills." She put on some oven mits and began pouring the spaghetti into the sink, onto a strainer.

"You did?" I asked. "I had no idea. That's pretty neat."

"It was fun," she replied. "Right now she's still hanging out in the Orange Islands, even though I tried to persuade her to come visit me here." May continued fixing up the rest of the dinner, pouring the red sauce on the spaghetti and bringing over the bowl to the dining table.

"You two are probably going to end up battling in the Grand Festival," I pointed out.

I almost wanted to say something about Drew, ask her whether she had seen him or heard from him lately. But, I decided not to, because I feared if I did, she would end up mentioning Harley, too. If she did, I would've gotten way too flustered, and it would've been clear I was hiding something from her.

"Yeah," she softly said. "But, it's okay, because I believe we'll both do our best if that happens." She tilted her head, smiling, then gestured for me to help myself to the spaghetti first.

I reached forward, using the large fork to gather some of the food and transfer it onto my plate. "You know, this looks pretty good, to be honest," I admitted to May, twirling my fork and gathering some of the long noodles.

"Thank you!" she beamed.

Again, May smiled, and as weird as it seemed, there was something very engaging and charming about it, almost like she was smiling _too much_. I became a little uncomfortable, feeling myself turn red as I realized she looked very pretty. I was reminded of Harley on top of me—touching me, teasing me—all in the meantime, dressed as my sister. He talked like her. He stole her quirks and movements. Instead of whispering his many nicknames to me, he whispered, "_brother_." But, instead of simply feeling humiliated at the thought, I realized that the image was very potent, even now. Intrigued with the memory, I felt an arousal stir in my body, which I instantly tried to extinguish by concentrating on my food.

"Did you travel with anyone?" she wondered, sucking in her lips to lick off some of the red sauce. "Mom told me she thought you were."

"_What_?" I demanded, almost dropping my fork. "No, I haven't traveled with anyone. _Anyone_."

May rose an eyebrow, messily trying to slurp the rest of the long, spaghetti before saying, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to rub it in your face."

"Huh?" I exasperated. Then, suddenly, I realized she thought I was offended, assuming I hadn't traveled with anyone and that I was saddened by it. I let out a small sigh. "No, it's okay. I didn't mean to yell."

"Maybe you should get in contact with Ash," she suggested. "You two could travel together."

"That would never work," I told her. "It's not like when we traveled with him and you did Contests and he did Gym Battles. Both Ash and I would be challenging Leaders for badges and it just wouldn't work."

"Are you sure about that?" she asked, playing with her noodles in her bowl. "When I first began traveling with him, he was originally completely okay with me doing Gym Battles. And, with Kelly, we traveled together even though we were both coordinators."

"Yeah, but did Kelly and you ever enter a Contest while you were traveling together?"

"Oh," May voiced in realization. "No, actually, we didn't."

"Then, _see_, it just wouldn't work out if I traveled with Ash. Besides, with Brock still with him and with that girl, Hikari, there I just wouldn't feel right freeloading with them." I shrugged, showing defeat. I hoped, however, May wouldn't think I was truly upset by it. I didn't want to travel with Ash. I wanted to travel with Harley, and once this whole thing was over with the Gym and taking care of it and whatever else, I would be able to again.

"Well, Max," May then began, obviously nervous about something, "I don't know whether you were serious about going to the Orange Islands or not, but maybe if you aren't, um, maybe the two of us could travel together, huh?"

I looked up the girl, seeing she was staring down at her meal, embarrassed. I frowned, seeing how serious she was about this. What was I supposed to say to her that wouldn't reveal I _was _planning to travel with someone, and at the same time, not break her heart? But, why should I spare her feelings? She didn't spare mine when she came out and said I couldn't come to Johto with her. Thinking back to that exact moment caused a pang to rise in my heart. It _still _hurt to realize she had said those words to me. Sometimes I just hated her for it.

When May looked back up to me, she saw I had a very stoic look on my face. It was easy for her to catch onto what I was thinking about, and she narrowed her eyes in disgrace. "I know what you're still hurt, Max," she revealed gently, "and I hate what I did, but I don't think you understand it."

"You don't hate it," I assured her blandly. "Why would you? You wanted to be independent, and I was just too much trouble, and you wanted to be with Drew, and so on." I rolled my eyes, completely bemused.

Redness flushed into May's complexion at the mention of Drew. I regretted saying it now, still fearful she'd bring up Harley, but as my sister pursed her lips, collecting herself, I calmed down, figuring she was going to let my last comment slide.

"It wasn't any of that, Max," May said softly. "I just wanted to prove I could do everything myself. You wouldn't have been _trouble—_you would've been a big help, and that was the problem. I didn't want to rely on you."

I continued to look at May flatly. I had gone over that possibility many times. I knew part of it was true, but it angered me that I was only worthy of traveling with _after _she proved something to herself. She didn't need me, and I surely didn't need her, so why was she offering this _now_?

"Well," I said to her, starting calm, "where you would want to go?"

"There are many regions to visit, but I was thinking Sinnoh might be fun. Hikari told me that the Contests there are really different! Coordinators get to dress up in pretty costumes, and it contributes to their Appeals and stuff. I think that sounds like _so fun_, don't you?"

_I think Harley would_, I thought to myself, and I almost said it out loud, too. Distantly, I did wonder whether or not Harley knew about this aspect of Sinnoh Contests. Harley was so theatrical with me sometimes—a prime example being just a few minutes ago when he melodramatically claimed we were the love of each other's lives—and something like that would probably thrill the man. He was already experienced, having dressed in his May outfit during an Appeal.

"Well, don't you?"

I blinked, snapping back to reality. "Um, yeah, maybe for you," I said, shrugging.

"Ash is doing very well in Sinnoh," she explained to me. "I'm sure you would, too."

I let out a frustrated sigh. "I_ was _serious about going to the Orange Islands," I decided to say.

"Oh…" May said quietly. "I guess that's a _no _then for traveling with me."

"Not really," I said to her. "It's just I think we're in different places. If I wanted to go to Kanto, you've already been there, too." I shrugged again.

Of course, my comment was a little deceitful since Harley had been through the same regions as May, and I still wanted to travel with _him_. However, Harley had revisited Johto, and I supposed that if I were persistent enough with him, he wouldn't mind going back to Kanto either.

May stood up, having finished her meal. As she washed off her dishes in the sink, I stood up, too, bringing over my own and helping her rinse everything.

"I wonder what it would've been like if I had taken you to Johto," she distantly mused, walking over to the table and picking up the last pieces of silverware and dishes. "Part of me thinks you wouldn't have had much fun because all I ever did was worry about my next Contest."

I just made a noise that revealed I was listening. I wouldn't have wanted to play third wheel to Drew and her, but maybe if I had gone, the two wouldn't have gotten together in the first place. Still curious of the thought, I wondered what would've happened between Harley and I if I been around. I would've been very young, but as I grew up, would Harley have noticed anything in me? I'm sure anyone would've called me crazy to admit that I really _hoped _he would have, regardless of how old I was back then. Would he have flirted with me, made it obvious he was attracted to me and perhaps _done something _about it, all in front of May?

I grinned at these thoughts. It would've been terribly amusing to have my relationship with him develop right in front of May. Of course, that thought was coming from what I knew now, and sadly, based on how frightened I was when I realized Harley was attracted to me initially, I would've been just as horrified no matter how our relationship started. Besides, if May had been around for Harley to taunt and plot against, I probably would've been a million times more cautious of him, and _nothing _would've developed.

Just as May and I finished cleaning around the kitchen, we heard something burst in an echoing howl outside. May, startled, walked over to the backdoor, tilting her head and looking out in the night sky. Dark and somber out there, even I saw a very apparent glow of yellow and orange, bright and fine in the sky. Fireworks.

"Oh, I forgot!" she exclaimed. "We should go watch! Nurse Joy worked really hard on this display!" May grabbed my wrist, gently guiding me outside after she slid open the door.

May and I stared up at the sky, waiting for the next burst in the sky to occur. We heard the howling streak plunge up before exploding in an assortment of blue, purple and pink. Sparkles fell around in an aftermath, drifting like dust here and there before another burst was heard. May, in awe, slowly sat, keeping up her weight with her arms as she stared into the sky. I watched her, seeing how wide her eyes were as she excitedly witnessed the colorful scatter. Realizing my attention was more on her than the fireworks, I sat, too, looking up at the sky with as much concentration as I could manage.

"I hope the noise doesn't scare our Pokémon," I noted, looking in the direction of the greenhouse.

"It won't," she assured me.

I couldn't get myself to turn and look at her, knowing full well she had a smile on her face. With the glowing hues pressing against my own face, I had to squint to continue staring up at the fireworks. Then, suddenly, I felt a thin, warm hand against my shoulder, causing me to turn in surprise.

"It means a lot to me that you came home, Max," she admitted, gentle and pleasant.

I was very grateful for the darkness, because I was so red after she finished her sentence. Her skin was warm and radiating, and the fact her touch felt overly intimate made me clear my throat, nodding for distraction.

"Yes," I replied, "so am I."

But, in reality, part of me still wasn't. I had left Harley, risked so much by doing so, and even though I knew May did need help, it still felt like as of now, I was doing nothing to contribute. I felt lucky that Harley even wanted to talk to me at all.

'_And, besides, Max, you're the love of my life!'_

Was I? Was I _truly _the love his life? I would've liked to believe he was being honest when he told me he hadn't been deeply involved with other men and boys before. Lance hadn't been anything major despite Drew's claims, and when I was with Harley, it felt like I was something very special to the man. I wasn't his "first" in terms of many things, but I felt like I was the first boy he actually, _truly _loved. I simply couldn't see him taking the time to talk to me on the phone and apologize if he didn't think I was worth the time. He was familiar with letting people go and walking away, but he made an effort to let me know he still cared and still _wanted me_.

And, May, well, she was, in so many ways, an incredible girl, and I respected and admired and _loved _her, but she wasn't Harley. And, Harley wasn't May. I had such a deep connection with my sister, one that was present even _now _despite the blemishes. As I turned to finally look at her, I realized she was still looking at me. My face remained hot and flushed, but the heat from May's hand almost made me want to believe she was just as self-conscious as I was at the moment. Scared to say anything, I just stared at her.

And, she stared back.

The fireworks continued, loud with bursts and spurts and torrents, but everything seemed silent. Behind her, I saw the greenhouse, the glass glowing with a bright reflection of the colors. But, none of that seemed to matter, because her eyes were locked on me, seeming so concentrated and sincere. Did she _want _me to say something? Did she _want _me to _do something_? God, what if she did? What on earth could it be?

I pursed my lips, looking away finally and to the ground. From the corner of my eye, I saw May look away, and only a moment later, I heard her sigh. This definitely confused me. She hadn't been looking at me the same way Harley ever had. _No,_ Harley looked at me hungrily, like I was some truffle in a candy store. May's expression was caring and innocent, and I supposed it was _sisterly_. Part of me was relieved, but somehow, another part of me felt… disappointed.

May suddenly stood up, stretching quickly before looking down at me. The fireworks were still going, more erratic as the finale seemed to be taking place. With each thump of a separate explosion my heart seemed to quicken, and I realized I was on my feet, too, having been helped up by May. Her hand was still on mine, and slowly—very slowly—she kneeled down, hugging me tightly in a way so similar to Harley's passionate embraces.

"May…" I murmured, directly into her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry for leaving you before," she suddenly revealed. "It was a terrible thing to do, and I'm truly sorry."

"May, it's not that big of a deal now," I told her. But, sadly, that wasn't necessarily true. I was still hurt, and why she had to bring it up made no sense to me. I was trying to get over it.

"I think I owed you that apology long ago," she admitted.

"Thank you," I said, "but it's okay now."

She pulled away a little bit, allowing space between us so I could see her face. She smiled graciously before slapping her lips together and giving a shake of her head. "I know this seems weird, Max, but I just feel like you've been so sad since you got home, and I want us to get along the way we used to, you know?"

I honestly didn't hear a word she said. I was so distracted by the way her arms remained around me and how her mouth expanded in a smile with every soft word. I ended up staring at her the way she had been staring at me before. And, part of me, simply not _wanting to _continue looking at her out of embarrassment, forced me to lean closer, moving fast and pushing my lips fully against hers.

May, surprised, instantly pulled away. She stared at me, blinking several times as I gaped, ready to apologize. But then, her lips pursed in a hesitant smile and she leaned forward, placing her lips on my cheek. Where her thin mouth landed, it felt as though my skin was burning, so heated by her delicate lips. Her hand extended, brushing through my hair as she kept her lips planted on my cheek. When she began to pull back, I stopped her, turning my head and forcing her lips on mine again. I made this kiss fervent: I tilted my head, I opened my mouth, I pressed into her.

May's eyelashes shuddered and she pulled away, dropping her hands from the embrace and staring at me, dumbfounded. Horrified by my actions, I narrowed my eyes, feeling color rise to my cheeks all over again.

"Max…" she said, furrowing her brow and touching her lips.

"I'm sorry!" I immediately shouted. "May, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! It's not like that—I just wanted to be…!"

Her eyes widened at my words. She moved quickly, walking by me and heading towards the house. I turned, wanting to catch her, but the only sight I caught was her closing the door after she entered. I reached out helplessly, thinking it would bring her back. But, already gone, I raced after her, following as I continued to feel flushed with humiliation.

Just as I began walking through the kitchen, I heard a door slam, and as I walked forward, I found that May had already made a mad dash for her bedroom. Her door was closed, but her light then flicked on, glowing from underneath the floor space. I knew I did not possess the courage to knock, but I wanted to so badly. I wanted to apologize again, assure her my kiss had meant nothing, and I was just trying to be close to her!

But, were those lies?

So embarrassed, I wasn't even sure I had the courage to_ ever_ face her again.

I buried my face in my hands again, sighing loudly.

"May," I decided to call out, my volume not high. "May, please come out. I'm _sorry_."

There was no answer. I heard a shuffle in the room, but nothing else. I bit my bottom lip, almost tempted to just come in her room uninvited. But, I was sure it wouldn't have helped the situation.

"May," I tried again, this time much louder.

"Max, I'm going to bed," she announced, loud enough for me to hear. "I'll see you in the morning."

I frowned, taken aback by her nonchalant words. She was dismissing me, avoiding the situation completely. Sullen now, I dragged myself to my room, shutting the door roughly behind me. Unable to take another step forward, I slumped against it and closed my eyes.

"Great," I muttered. "What the heck is wrong with me?" I pinched the bridge of my nose, shaking my head in frustration.

After several minutes, I managed to stand. I had only woken up a few hours ago, but already it was late enough to go back to bed. Knowing there was nothing else to do, I changed back into my nightwear, collapsing backwards onto my bed in exhaustion. When I turned, squirming under the sheets, I noticed there was something on the screen of my smartphone. I picked up the device, looking at the screen, which read I had one message.

Taking out the pointer, I pressed the option to listen to the message.

"_Now, why on earth are you not answering?"_ the recorded voice said. Harley's tone was curious but also very suspicious. _"Busy fucking her? Or, are you just asleep? Nonetheless, I'm calling because I want to talk to you, Maximus. I thought you should know something."_

I blinked, realizing that was the end of the message. I shut my eyes and tried to get my mind off of May. For a moment, I thought I _just _missed Harley's call, and somehow, he had some kind of insane intuition that alerted him I had just kissed her. Was I supposed to call him back now? If I did, would I be able to hold a conversation with him, or would I embarrass myself with revelations about what I did to May?

God, what would he do if I admitted the truth to him? It was just a kiss, but I knew he'd go mad. It wasn't as though he would ever find out, but I felt so obligated to tell him, especially since he was already so suspicious about me in the first place. But, Harley wouldn't consider my honesty; he would be fixated on the fact I had been "unfaithful" to him.

Whatever the case, I _needed _to get my mind off of the situation. I had a feeling Harley was calling about my Dusk Stone, but I couldn't be sure. I decided I would call him back, and as I waited for him to answer, I took off my glasses and relaxed against my pillow.

"He_ee_llo?"

My mind seemed to immediately clear at the sound of his blissful, suave voice. I smiled in a melted way, responding, "Hello, Harley." I almost laughed at myself for feeling and sounding so giddy. "I'm sorry I missed your call."

"I'm sure you have a good excuse," he said. "Well, I mean, so long as you two weren't shagging."

"No, Harley," I assured in annoyance as I rolled my eyes. "Did you call me because I left the Dusk Stone there?"

"What?" he said, puzzled. "Oh, oh, yes, you did leave that here, you dope, but that's not why I'm calling you."

"So, it is there," I concluded, slightly relieved. "What do you want then?" I then asked.

"_Excuse me_," he warned, offended, "but Max, darling, that is not a nice tone."

"Um…" I stuttered, furrowing my brow, "I'm sorry."

Harley's tone was ridiculously phony, sounding like he did when the two of us met up in Goldenrod City. He was being theatrical, overly precise with his words, and I instantly did not trust him.

"I have some very exciting news for you, Max," he announced, and I knew he was unable to control his smirks, because I could hear it in his jaunty tone. "I hope you're just as excited."

"What is it, Harley?" I asked, slightly annoyed. "You're making me nervous, really."

The man laughed, a cool and collective chortle that was full of deceit. "I'm taking a trip, darling," he announced, "and I want you to guess where."

**The End**


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